'^^'— 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


a  MANEY,     Henry,     Memories     Over     the     Water, 
introduction   by   Edwin   H.   Ewing.    1st   ed.,   Nash- 
ville,   1854.  S5.00 
*  These    sketches    were     1st    published     in     the 
Nashville  Gazette. 


M  E  M  0  U  I  E  S 


OVER     THE     WATER, 


OB 


STRAY   THOUGHTS   ON   A  LONG   STROLL. 


BT 


HENRY    MANEY. 


WITH       AN       INTRODUCTORY 


BV  THE 


HON.     EDWIN     n .     E  W  I  N  a . 


NASIIVIL]^: 

TOON,    NELSON    <fe    COMPANY, 

18  5  4. 


Eutered,  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1854,  by 

TOON,    NELSON   &    CO., 

In  the  Clerk's  OfBce  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the  Middle 

District  of  Tennessee. 


C.    A.   MORGAN    &     CO., 
STERE0TYPEE3  AND  PUBLISHERS, 

HAKMOHD     STREET. 


c  «      «  t  c 


DEDICATED 


TO    TUG 


MEirOHY  OF  MISS  F.  W.  S.,  OF  MIIFIIEESBOIIOUGH,  N.  C. 


P^         In  the  Btill,  darkened  home,  time  can  never  replace 
^  Her  fair  winsome  beauty,  her  gladness  and  grace ; 

So  light  was  her  footstep,  so  joyous  her  eye, 
^         Who  ever  had  thought  that  the  dear  one  could  die? 
ol         But  make  ye  a  chamber,  for  the  fair  one  to  rest, 
g        "Where  the  sun-light  may  fall  from  the  amber-hued  "West, 
For,  as  one  at  Machpelah,  tho'  beauteous  and  bright, 
Was  buried  by  sorrowing  love  out  of  sight, 
O  So  we,  gentle  friends,  crave,  in  mem'ry,  a  place 

^  To  embalm  this  pure  casket  of  beauty  and  grace. 

§  She  hath  left  us  her  virtues,  as  jewels  to  keep— 

■•^  And  so  lot  the  young  and  the  beautiful  sleep! 

ij  (  iii  ) 


448SS3 


PREFACE. 


It  has  been  said  that  when  a  man  sits  doggedly  in 
his  study,  and  says  to  himself,  "  I  mean  to  write  a 
good  book,"  it  is  certain,  from  the  necessity  of  the 
case,  that  the  result  will  be  a  bad  one.  If  the  result 
of  our  book  is  a  bad  one  it  cannot  be  from  this 
cause.  For  the  succeeding  sketches  were  loosely  thrown 
together,  and  originally  published,  under  the  signature 
of  "  Quoi  DoNC,"  for  the  amusement  of  the  readers  of 
the  "Nashville  Gazette,"  without  the  remotest  idea,  at 
the  time,  of  their  ever  coming  before  the  public  in 
the  shape  of  a  book.  But  by  some  singular  chance  — 
whether  at  the  solicitation  of  numerous  friends,  or  for 
the  fulfillment  of  some  enemy's  prayer,  we  '11  not  stop  to 
consider  —  they  certainly  have  assumed  that  form.  Writ- 
ten at  an  early  age,  when  Fancy  more  than  Fact  was 
the  bias  of  the  mind,  conscious  of  their  defects,  though 
confident  of  the  reader's  charity,  the  Author  would  even 
yet  hesitate  to  put  them  before  the  public,  did  he  not 
know  that,  with  the  Introductory  of  his  friend  and 
fellow-traveler,  the  Hon.  Edwin  H.  Ewing,  who  has 
kindly  consented  thus  to  preface  them,  they  cannot  prove 
unwelcome.  In  giving  them  up  to  the  world,  he  would 
only  say,  with  the  Bard, 

"  Ye  who  shall  trace  the  pilgrim  to  the  scene 
Whicli  is  liis  last,  if  on  your  memories  dwell 
A  thought  which  once  was  his  —  if  on  ye  swell 
A  single  recollection,  not  in   vain 
He  wore  his  saudal-shoon  and  scallop-shell." 

(V) 


Xashv'ille,  Ajyril  6(h,  1854. 
EDWIN   II.   EWING,    ESQ.: 

My  Dear  Sir  —  As  you  are  aware,  some  time  after 
my  return  from  Europe  I  commenced  a  series  of  Sketches, 
recounting  incidents  of  travel,  etc.,  under  the  nom  de  plume 
of  Quoi  DoNC.  These  sketches,  which  were  pubUshed  in 
the  Nashville  Gazette,  met  with  the  kind  approval  of  some 
of  my  friends ;  and  when  they  were  finished,  the  partial 
favor  of  these  same  friends  induced  them,  perhaps,  to  re- 
quest of  me  that  the  letters  should  be  published  in  some 
more  durable  form.  Having  resolved  to  publish,  I  would 
fain  find  some  ground  upon  which  I  may  stand,  in  justifi- 
cation of  my  course,  more  reliable  than  friendly  partiality. 
I  knew  something  of  the  severity  of  your  judgment,  and 
therefore  did  not  dare  to  submit  to  you,  in  the  first  instance, 
the  question  whether  I  should  publish  or  not ;  but  I  know, 
also,  something  of  the  substantial  kindness  of  your  temper, 
and  of  your  ingenuity  even  in  "making  the  worst  appear 
the  better  reason,"  where  one  is  irretrievably  committed. 
And  so,  now,  I  may  venture  to  ask  you — Have  I  done 
well,  or  have  I  done  ill  ?  If  you  should  not  choose  to 
express  an  opinion  upon  this  important  question,  still  I 
should  be  glad  that  you  would  write  something  to  me  in 
return,  as  I  feel  that  there  is  a  peculiar  propriety  in  con- 
necting your  name  with  my  Travels.  You  were  the  first 
sufrsrester  of  a  foreiim  tour  amonsr  us,  and,  te  duce,  much  of 
my  travel  was  performed,  and  many  of  my  most  important 

observations  made. 

Your  friend, 

HENRY  MANEY. 
^  vii> 


LNTRODUCTORY  LETTER  FROM  HOiN.  EDWIN  11.  EWING. 


Nashville,  April  Qth,  1854. 
HENEY   MANET,    ESQ.: 

My  Dear  Friend — As  you  have  already  determined 
to  commit  your  barque  to  the  waves  of  pubhc  opinion,  you 
must,  I  suppose,  abide  their  buffets  ;  nor  can  I  or  any  one 
else  interpose  a  shield  that  will  break  their  force.  Hap- 
pily, I  think,  you  will  not  need  such  a  shield. 

Soon  after  my  return  from  Europe,  I  found  you  in  a 
course  of  publication  in  the  Gazette,  and  naturally  turned 
with  interest  to  see  how  the  sights  and  incidents  that  we 
had  witnessed  together  would  tell  to  me,  who  had  been  an 
actor,  as  well  as  to  those  who  had  remained  at  home  not 
altogether  uninterested  inquirers  after  our  wanderings.  I 
turned  too,  with  no  incurious  eye,  to  your  Letters,  to  see 
what  impression  had  been  made  upon  one  young,  ardent 
and  enthusiastic  as  yourself,  by  objects  which  I  had  also 
viewed  with  a  mind  worn,  jaded,  and  then  somewhat  weary 
of  the  things  of  life.  Romance,  with  me,  was  but  a  memory; 
with  you  it  was  the  day-spring  of  life  ;  History  to  you  was 
a  living  picture;  to  me  it  was  but  a  mouldering  skeleton. 
To  the  one  the  Poetry,  the  Painting,  the  Music  of  by-gone 
times  were  wells  of  inspiration ;  while  to  the  other,  they 
were  but  the  insipid  waters  of  the  stagnant  reservoir.  The 
reading  of  your  letters  was  then  to  me  not  merely  the 
renewal  of  faded  memories — the  repainting  of  scenes  dim- 
med by  time  and  distance  —  the  replacing  of  forgotten  inci- 

(  viii ) 


Leiteu  FiioM    Hon.  Edwin  11.  Ewinu.  ix 

dents,  but  it  was  as  if  I  had  seen  again,  and  from  a  differ- 
ent point  of  view,  the  cities  and  structures,  the  rivers  and 
mountains,  the  landscapes  and  objects  of  art,  the  manners 
and  customs  of  the  elder  continent.  The  sullen  roar  of 
London,  the  gay  rattle  of  Paris,  the  smiling  quietude  of 
Florence,  the  solemn  grandeur  of  voiceless  Rome,  were  all 
renewed  before  me ;  and  not  renewed  only,  but  quickened 
and  vivified,  and  rendered  doubly  suggestive. 

These  were  naturally  the  impressions  and  feelings  pro- 
duced upon  my  mind  by  the  reading  of  your  letters,  seeing 
that  we  had  traveled  over  a  good  portion  of  Europe  toge- 
ther, and  that,  previously  to  our  becoming  fellow-travelers, 
we  had  separately  traversed  the  same  ground.  What 
impression  they  may  make  upon  the  mind  of  the  general 
public,  in  these  days,  when  books  of  travels  are  so  abun- 
dant—  when  Europe  has  become  but  a  holiday-ground  for 
American  idlers,  and  when  even  the  "ancestral  East"  is 
yearly  invaded  by  traveling  armies — it  is  not  a  little  difficult 
to  say.  Nor  is  it  any  part  of  my  intention  to  forestall  public 
opinion  by  an  expression  of  my  own,  which,  at  best,  might 
be  regarded  as  prejudiced  and  partial.  Thus  much,  how- 
ever, I  may  say  with  propriety — that  your  book  will  be 
found  free  from  that  vice,  so  common  to  books  of  travels, 
as  to  have  brourrht  them  to  rank  as  next  of  kin  to  works  of 
fiction,  if  not  in  the  same  category.  I  mean  the  want  of 
veracity,  and  even  sometimes  of  veri-similitude.  The  trav- 
eler seems  to  forget,  in  most  instances,  that  he  is  a  his- 
torian and  not  a  poet,  and  that  the  Muses  have  not,  as  yet, 
allowed  to  the  one  the  "license"  so  generously  extended  to 
the  other.  Exaggerated  descriptions,  factitious  incidents, 
quaint  adventures,  "wondrous  scapes  by  flood  and  field," 


X  Introductory  Letter  from 

are  pressed  into  service,  to  eke  out  what  it  is  feared  might 
be  otherwise  tame  and  uninteresting;  and  such  general 
discredit  is  thus  brought  upon  this  character  of  writing, 
that  "he  hes  hke  a  traveler"  has  passed  almost  into  a 
proverb. 

Traveling,  as  you  did,  from  the  interior  of  America 
through  your  own  country,  and  crossing  the  ocean, 
through  the  British  Isles,  France,  Switzerland,  Germany 
and  Italy,  you  have  certainly  had  ample  opportunity  to  see 
and  to  recount  matters  of  interest  to  those  whom  duty  or 
incHnation  has  kept  within  their  native  territory.  To  the 
graphic  character  of  your  descriptions ;  to  your  truthful  and 
yet  pleasing  pictures  of  manners  and  customs ;  to  your  life- 
like painting  of  landscapes  and  scenery;  to  your  accurate 
delineation  of  works  of  art;  to  your  just  presentation  of  the 
world-renowned  structures  of  the  architect,  and  withal  to 
your  agreeable  and  appropriate  infusion  of  incidents  of 
travel,  I  may  not  be  allowed  to  testify.  These  must  be 
found  by  the  reading  of  your  book. 

Your  work  will  have  at  least  one  peculiarity,  and  indeed 
one  advantage  in  the  State  in  which  you  live.  You  are,  I 
believe,  the  first  Tennessean  who  has  undertaken  to  pub- 
lish a  book  of  foreign  travel.  Those  who  have  preceded 
you  from  this  State,  in  the  great  track  of  curiosity  and 
instruction,  have  been  content  with  the  name  of  "  Hadji," 
and  with  fireside  details  of  what  they  had  heard  and  seen 
in  distant  lands.  Your  book  will  give  to  those  who  have 
known  you,  nearly  a  realizing  sense  of  the  existence  and 
character  of  foreign  countries  which  they  have  never  yet  ex- 
perienced. Your  reality  will  make  substantial  what  before 
was  somewhat  dim  and  shadowy.    The  distant  country,  seen 


Hon.  Edwin  II.  Ewing.  xi 

through  the  distant  author,  leaves  large  scope  for  optical 
illusions,  and  both  are  felt  to  be  in  a  slight  degree  myth- 
ical. The  book  is,  in  that  case,  but  the  picture  of  both,  and 
the  material  proof  is  wanting.  Your  book,  on  the  con- 
trary, will  have  the  advantage,  with  your  immediate  fellow- 
citizens,  of  a  "tale  that  is  told."  They  will  feel  a  prox- 
imity, and  as  it  were  an  identity  with  the  scenes  described 
and  the  incidents  recounted,  that  nothing  else  could  give 
them.  Beginning  at  your  and  their  common  home,  you 
will  travel  and  return  toijether.  From  the  heart  of  our 
Republic  to  the  "  Toe  of  Italy,"  they  will  be  led  insensibly 
on,  seeing  and  feeling  all  that  of  which  before  they  had 
only  vaguely  thought  or  faintly  heard.  Such,  at  least,  has 
been  my  observation  and  experience  of  the  difference 
between  reading:  the  book  of  an  author  whom  I  had  seen 
and  personally  known,  and  the  book  of  one  who  was  known 
to  me  only  by  its  contents  or  by  the  trumpet  of  Fame. 

As  a  matter  of  private  feeling,  I  am  glad  that  one  of 
those  with  whom  I  traveled  has  thought  proper  to  give  the 
results  of  his  observation  to  the  public  eye.  I  hope  that 
it  may  be  the  means  of  inspiring  others  to  enlarge  their 
experience,  and  gratify  their  longings  by  a  communion 
with  the  people  of  other  lands.  That  they  may  be  induced 
to  enjoy  the  intense  satisfaction  to  be  derived  by  Avell- 
stored  minds  in  a  nearer  approach  to  the  fields  and  scenes 
of  "modem  instance,"  and  of  "ancient  story."  That 
they  may  be  persuaded  to  garner  up  for  themselves  a 
treasure  of  rich  memories,  which  are  at  last  the  only  virgin 
gold  in  the  storehouse  of  the  mind.  Who  would  deny  him- 
self, if  he  could  but  know  it  in  advance,  the  glorious  joy 
of  standing  upon  an  Alpine  height  and  looking  upon  the 


xii  Intkoductoky  Lettek  from 

snow-clad  giants  that  rest  around  him  in  the  dignity  of 
lasting  silence  ?  Who  Avould  refuse  himself  the  memory 
of  having  stood  upon  some  field  of  blood,  -where  he 
could  almost  hear  the  tramp  of  charging  squadrons,  and 
the  despairing  cry  of  down-trodden  thousands  from  the 
"lost  battle  flvinsr?"  Who  would  forget  the  fearful  hor- 
ror  with  which  he  had  looked  into  the  bowels  of  Vesu- 
vius, beetling  upon  its  crater's  "perilous  edge,"  and 
dumb  with  awe  at  the  dread  throes  of  mysterious  nature 
in  this  her  last  retreat?  Whose  heart  should  not  leap 
with  the  thought  of  seeing  the  faded  glories  of  Venice, 
"the  City  of  the  Sea,"  the  throneless  Adrian  Queen;  of 
basking  upon  the  sunlit  shores  of  Naples'  bay,  with  its 
vine-clad  hills  and  smihng  islands,  rich  in  remains  of  the 
"unforgotten  dead;"  of  taking  at  least  a  look  at  Genoa 
the  Proud,  and  dallying  for  a  time  upon  the  glacis  of  gay 
and  laucrhino;  Vienna  ? 

Ah,  me  !  the  memory  of  such  sights  and  scenes  comes 
upon  me  now,  with  the  melancholy  but  not  painful  thought 
that  I  shall  see  them  no  more.  But  it  is  not  alone  in 
musing  silence  that  pleasure  is  derived  from  such  recol- 
lections ;  whenever  a  book  is  read  or  a  discourse  is  heard 
where  countries  are  introduced  over  which  one  has  trav- 
eled, they  seem  nearer  and  more  real  than  of  old.  Rome 
and  Greece,  and  that  far  land  where  salvation  was  first 
revealed  for  the  sons  of  men,  used  to  seem  to  me  as 
Laputa  or  Atlantis  —  their  existence  and  their  story  met 
my  acquiescence  rather  than  my  belief  —  they  were  but 
shadows  of  the  real.  Now  I  can  feel  their  substance  and 
their  truth  ;  their  ruins  and  their  monuments  have  rescued 
them  from  the  land  of  dreams  and  imagination. 


Hon.  Edwin  II,  Ewing.  xiii 

How  much  I  regretted  that  you  found  it  necessary  to 
turn  your  steps  homeward,  when  we  parted  at  Naples — you 
to  reside  for  a  time  in  that  "unililicus  terrcc,"  iXiai  Festu- 
ground  of  nations,  "Lutetia  Parisiorum" — I  to  tempt  the 
sands  of  Egypt,  and  to  track  the  Israelites  in  their  wan- 
derings. But  you  will  yet  Hve,  I  hope,  to  visit  "the 
Father  of  Waters,"  and  to  rest  yourself  under  the  brow 
of  "  Old  Sinai ;"  to  see  the  waste  places  of  the  City  of 
Jehovah,  and  to  pitch  your  tent  by  "the  river  of  Damas- 
cus." And  then  again  the  world  may  hear  from  you  with 
renewed  interest.  Indeed  /feel  sometimes  almost  a  desire 
to  write  of  these  lands  of  miracle  and  romance — not  for 
the  world's  applause — not  for  its  amusement,  nor  yet  with 
the  presumptuous  hope  of  affording  it  instruction,  but  as  it 
were,  to  renew  my  visit — to  bring  closer  my  recollections, 
and  to  give  vent  to  my  dreamy  meditations.  On  the  top 
of  the  Pyramids  ;  in  the  shadow  of  Memnon's  Statue  ;  by 
the  Well  of  Samaria ;  along  the  Valley  of  Jehoshaphat,  and 
at  the  Pool  of  Bethesda,  I  had  my  dreams.  When  I 
looked  from  Hebron  toward  "the  Sea  of  Death,"  and  saw 
forever  ascending  a  smoke  like  the  breath  of  a  furnace  ; 
when  I  bathed  in  the  "  Sea  of  Galilee,"  and  looked  across 
at  the  mountains  of  Gilead  ;  when  I  stood  upon  Mount 
Tabor,  and  viewed  a-back  the  wide  plain  of  Esdraelon, 
there  came  up  the  mighty  shadows  of  the  past — Abraham 
and  the  cities  of  the  plain — the  Son  of  Mary  stilling  the  sud- 
den storm — Saul  breathing  out  his  despairing  soul  upon  the 
mountains  of  Gilboa.  In  Greece,  too,  I  seemed  sometimes 
to  be  with  the  spirits  of  the  "mighty  dead" — Agamemnon 
with  his  host ;  Xerxes  with  his  crowded  millions  ;  Sparta 
with  her  iron  sons;  Athens  with  ils  brilliant  heroes  —  all 


xiv  Introductory  Letter,  etc. 

lived  again  and  passed  in  review  before  me.  But  I  find 
that  I  am  ratlier  telling  you  my  story  tlian  writing  to  you 
about  your  own  ;  and  indeed  I  have,  perhaps,  said  as  much 
about  each  as  propriety  may  demand.  One  remark  more, 
however,  I  will  make.  I  observe  in  your  Letters  that 
which  some  may  regard  as  a  defect,  but  which  is  with  me 
rather  matter  of  commendation.  I  mean  the  omission  of 
anything  like  extended  commentary  upon  the  social  or 
governmental  relations  of  the  people  among  whom  you 
traveled.  I  regard  it  as  but  a  piece  of  shallow  presump- 
tion, on  the  part  of  any  one  who  passes  rapidly  from  point 
to  point  in  a  country,  to  undertake  to  give  views  of  govern- 
ment and  society,  that  should  be  the  result  only  of  long 
residence  and  intimate  means  of  knowledge.  Facts  may 
be  given,  but  deductions  from  them,  as  to  the  happiness 
or  misery  of  a  people — as  to  their  capacity  for  self-govern- 
ment ;  as  to  their  practical  oppression  and  their  means  of 
relief — require  a  larger  view  and  more  reflection  than  can 
be  given  by  a  mere  traveler. 

But  enough.  I  am  sure  that  you  deserve  success  ;  and 
if  public  applause  should  be  commensurate  with  my 
respect  and  friendship  for  you,  yourself  would  be  satisfied 
that  it  had  been  accorded  to  you  in  full  and  even  over- 
flowing: measure. 

Yours,  truly, 

EDWIN  11.  EWING. 


o 


MEMORIES 


OVER      THE       WATER. 


CHAPTER  I. 


It  is  proposed  in  the  following  sketches — not  to 
indulge  in  any  learned  disquisitions  on  the  laws, 
manners,  or  customs  of  the  various  nations  through 
which  we  will  conduct  our  readers — not  to  discourse 
of  matters,  whose  investigation  probably  would 
most  become  the  historian  or  the  philosopher — nor 
yet  to  weary  the  attention  by  the  enumeration  of 
trite  and  uninteresting  facts,  familiar  to  every  one, 
whose  vocation  or  whose  pleasure  has  led  him  to 
cross  over  "  the  big  waters"  and  look  on  foreign 
lands.  But  we  would  simply  turn  once  more  upon 
our  track,  ere  the  lapse  of  time  has  dimmed  the 
remembrance  of  our  travels,  and  recall  some  of  the 
pleasant  memories,  that  gather  round  the  recollec- 
tion of  the  rover.  We  claim  for  these  Sketches  no 
literary  merit,  but  would  relate  in  a  social,  fireside 
manner  some  of  the  incidents  that  enlivened  our 
long  ramble  over    foreign    shores.      And   here   wo 

would  say,  that  if  it  should    seem  to  any  that  our 

(23) 


24  Memories  over  the  "Water. 

random  productions  smack  too  much  of  the  personal, 
our  simple  apology  is  that  the  general  groundwork 
of  such  articles  has  been  so  completely  covered,  that 
to  be  at  all  original,  one's  observations  must  be 
principally  confined  to  his  own  personal  experience. 
Trusting  then,  in  all  confidence,  to  the  indulgent 
charity  of  our  readers,   we  will  to  our  wanderings. 

It  was  on  the  memorable  twenty-first  of  July, 
1851,  that  we  left  our  home,  by  morning  moonlight, 
for  the  far-distant  shores  of  the  Old  World,  still 
sufiering  under  the  ravages  of  a  Southern  fever,  but 
buoyant  with  hope  and  busy  with  reflections  on  the 
chanixes  which  might  occur  in  the  circle  of  home 
and  friends  ere  our  return.  The  passion  of  our 
life  was  about  to  be  gratified,  the  roving  visions  of 
our  early  boyhood  tried  by  veritable  reality,  and 
the  rattle  of  the  stage-coach  was  as  music  in  our  ears. 

It  is  needless  to  relate  how  from  the  "  home  of 
our  boyhood  "  the  stage-coach  bore  us  to  the  banks 
of  the  Ohio  ;  how  from  the  fair  city  of  Louisville 
we  went  gliding  up  the  Ohio,  whose  lovely  waters 
have  so  richly  merited  and  received  the  appellation 
of  "  La  Belle  Eiviere ;"  how  from  the  "  Queen  City 
of  the  West "  we  took  the  cars  for  Cleveland,  and 
went  bounding  away  through  the  "Buckeye  State" 
— the  land  of  "bread  and  cheese" — a  flat  and 
monotonous  route,  utterly  void  of  any  interesting 
scenery.  But  rapidly  trees,  houses  and  farms  flit 
by  us,  and  ere  the  sun  had  sunk  behind  the  western 


Memoeies  over  the  Water,  25 

hills,  we  were  safely  deposited  in  Cleveland  city. 
Making  a  resolute  push  through  the  vociferous  army 
of  hackmen  and  porters  that  dogged  our  steps,  we 
marched  immediately  aboard  the  splendid  steamer 
that  was  then  in  waiting  for  our  train,  and  soon  we 
were  dancing  over  the  blue  bosom  of  Lake  Erie. 
On  our  right  sat  queenly  Cleveland,  looking  out 
upon  the  broad  waters,  while  the  white  sails  of 
many  vessels  on  our  left,  glimmered  in  the  golden 
rays  of  the  west-going  sun  as  he  slowly  dipped  to 
the  distant  wave. — 'Tvvas  forsooth  a  scene  for  paint- 
er's pencil  or  poet's  verse  as  first  we  witnessed  sun- 
set on  the  waters.  But  night  soon  vails  the  land 
and  wave,  while  music,  the  song  and  the  deck  prom- 
enade serve  to  wing  the  golden  hours. 

Early  on  the  following  morning,  we  landed  at  the 
flourishing  city  of  Buflalo,  and  at  nine  o'clock, 
A.  M.,  of  the  same  morning,  took  the  swift-footed 
cars  for  the  falls  of  Niagara,  those  wondrous  waters 
whose  fame  "  hath  gone  forth  into  other  lands,"  and 
whose  very  name  is  the  poetry  of  might,  majesty 
and  beauty.  Any  attempt  at  description  would  be 
but  impotent  and  vain.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  we 
had  a  merry  romp  over  "Main  Island"  with  several 
fair  ladies  from  the  "city  of  rocks,"  among  the  num- 
ber, Mrs.  James  Bankhcad,  and  Miss  Jennie  Wat- 
son, whose  witchincc  smiles  shed  sunlifrht  on  the 
scene,  and  lent  the  finishing  touch  to  the  beauty  of 
the  whole  ;    that  we  ascended    "  Prospect   Tower," 

overlooking  tlie  chasm   of    the    "  Ilorse-Shoe,"  and 
2 


26  Memokies  ovek  the  Water. 

looked  down  upon  the  roaring  waters  below ;  that 
we  crossed  over  to  the  Canada  side  by  the  "  Suspen- 
sion Bridge,"  and  from  the  dizzy  height  of  this  fairy 
work,  gazed  down  on  the  rushing  river  far  beneath 
us  ;  that  we  stood  upon  the  giddy  brink  of  "  Table 
Hock,"  and  saw  the  snow-white  rapids  come  racing 
on,  to  plunge  with  the  roar  of  thunder  to  the  misty 
caldron  at  our  feet,  while  beauteous  Iris  spanned 
the  boiling  chaos,  hovering  like  some  angel  of  mercy 
over  the  region  of  the  damned. 

But  our  mission  was  still  far  in  the  distance  ;  so 
bidding  a  reluctant  adieu  to  the  glories  of  Niagara, 
we  pursued  our  way  toward  the  eastern  limits  of 
our  native  land.  Our  iron  steed  is  once  more  har- 
nessed, his  shrill  snort  heard,  and  tossing  high  his 
dark  mane  of  smoke,  he  dashes  onward,  passing 
through  as  lovely  a  country  as  eye  could  wish  to 
rest  upon.  Well  may  the  "Empire  State"  lift  up 
her  head,  proud  of  her  flourishing  cities,  and  their 
teeming  thousands,  her  noble  rivers  and  her  lovely 
lakes,  her  goodly  hills  and  her  fertile  valleys.  We 
viewed,  with  delighted  eye,  her  many  treasures,  and 
felt  a  proud  satisfaction  that  it  was  our  own  land 
we  looked  upon.  One  day  sufficed  to  bring  us  from 
Buffalo  to  Albany,  whence  we  took  the  steamer 
down  the  Hudson,  wanting  only  the  ornamental 
villas  and  the  crumbling,  vine-clad  castles  of  the  Rhine, 
to  render  it  the  most  beautiful  river  in  the  world. 
Reached  New  York  in  due  time,  and  after  devoting  sev- 
eral days  to  the  city,  we  made  preparation  for  sailing. 


CHAPTER   II. 


It  were  hard  to  describe  the  contendino:  emotions 
that  now  swelled  the  heart,  as  we  trod  the  deck  of 
a  noble  vessel,  bound  direct  for  foreign  shores.  The 
moment  was  rapidly  drawing  on,  when  we  should 
bid  adieu  to  the  land  of  our  birth,  and  have  the  face 
of  nature  shut  out  from  our  view,  until  our  eyes 
should  open  on  the  olden  world.  The  good  ship 
"Asia"  was  crowded  with  passengers,  and  a  great 
number  had  come  to  witness  the  departure  of  rela- 
tives and  friends,  while  many  a  thoughtful,  anxious 
face,  and  many  a  moistened  eye,  told  how  the  flood- 
gates of  the  heart  were  unlocked,  and  its  deep 
fountains  stirred  at  the  thought  that  they  were  part- 
ing, and  perhaps  forever.  But  for  us  no  eye  was 
dimmed,  no  loved  voice  trembled  in  the  fond  fare- 
well !  for  we  were  alone,  without  a  friend,  an 
acquaintance,  or  one  familiar  face,  with  whom  we 
could  claim  an  adieu. 

Precisely  at  12  o'clock,  m.,  the  last  warning-bell 
is  rung,  our  cables  slipped,  and  as  the  brave  ship 
moves  out,  her  booming  cannon  shout  a  jiarting 
salute  to  the  shores  of  our  native  land.     Again  and 

CD 

jigain,  as  we  glide  on,  her  guns  arc  loaded,  and  as 

(27) 


28  Memoeies  over  the  Water. 

the  active  sailor  rams  home  the  charge,  again  the 
loud  report  reverberates  along  the  coast,  and  echoes 
over  the  bay.  Eapidly  we  cleave  the  still,  calm 
water,  while  our  officers,  in  their  handsome  uniforms 
of  blue,  stand  upon  the  gangways,  and  issue  with 
trumpet-voice  their  many  orders,  to  which  is  readily 
returned  the  hearty  "aye,  aye,  sir!"  Still  swiftly 
glides  onward  our  mammoth  ship,  passing  by  Gover- 
nor's island,  the  Battery,  the  Fort,  Staten  Island,  and 
other  objects  of  interest,  and  erelong  we  are  out  upon 
the  mighty  deep,  with  the  dim  shores  of  Long  Island 
trailing  on  our  left,  and  the  coast  we  had  so  lately 
quitted  growing  more  and  more  indistinct.  The 
shades  of  night  came  creeping  on,  the  day-king  had 
sought  his  western  couch,  and  as  the  last,  faint  out- 
line of  our  native  shores  faded  slowly  away  through 
the  increasing  gloom,  we  gave  over  our  lingering 
gaze,  and  turning  to  our  cabin  sighed — 

"  My  native  land,  good  night !" 

On  the  following  morning  we  rose  refreshed  with 
sleep,  and  though  the  vessel  was  rocking  slightly,  we 
experienced  no  diflSculty  in  making  our  simple  toilet, 
nor  felt  as  yet  that  wretched,  deathly  sensation, 
usually  denominated,  sea-sickness.  But  we  were  not 
destined  to  escape  entirely  the  ills  that  the  fresh 
mariner  is  heir  to ;  so  just  conceive  a  woe-begone 
youth,  most  dejectedly  seated  on  a  four-legged  stool, 
with  his  forlorn  phiz  buried  in  his  hands,  and  whew ! 
heaving  like  old  Vesuvius,  while  a  few  old  salts  fill 
up   the  background,  making  merry  over  pur  misfor- 


Memories  oveu  the  Water.  29 

tunes,  and  you  liave  our  daguerreotype.  At  any  other 
time  we  mig-ht  have  felt  halt-way  disposed  to  rise 
from  our  seat,  and  throw  our  four-legged  friend  at  the 
heads  of  the  graceless  jesters,  but  now  the  awfully 
collapsed  state  of  the  internal  system  bo  completely 
mastered  every  effort  of  the  will,  that  verily  had  one 
come  up  and  pulled  our  nose,  we  could  hardly  have 
recognized  it  as  an  insult. 

But  our  spell  was  of  brief  duration,  and  erelong 
we  had  learned  to  tread  the  rolling  deck  with  buoyant 
step  and  —  steady  stomach. — So  now  we  began  to 
look  about  us  to  learn  what  manner  of  men  we  were 
to  be  associated  with  during  the  voyage.  We  discov- 
ered, from  the  jargon  of  many  tongues  and  varied 
language  in  the  painting-decked  saloon,  that  each  and 
every  nation,  of  any  consequence,  claimed  a  represen- 
tative among  our  passengers — the  indefatigable  Amer- 
ican, the  phlegmatic  German,  the  morose  Englishman, 
the  social  Frenchman,  the  somber  Spaniard,  the 
volatile  Irishman,  with  a  scattering  of  Cuban,  Creole, 
and  African. 

But  what  shall  we  say  of  our  voyage,  what  others 
have  not  said,  and  what  mention  shall  we  make  of 
the  good  ship  "  Asia  " — English  though  she  be,  and 
built  of  British  Oak  ?  Every  incident  of  a  sea-voyage 
has  been  made  familiar,  and  a  repetition  would  only 
pall  upon  the  car.  Enough  to  say,  then,  that  the 
night  succeeded  to  the  day,  and  we  successively  saw 
sunrise,  sunset,  and  moonlight  on  the  ocean.  Sweep- 
ing the  broad    horizon   of    water   round,   we   have 


30  Memoriks  oyer  the  "Water. 

■watched  some  distant  ship,  when  its  cloud-like  sails 
were  first  dimly  traced  in  faint  relief  upon  the  sky, 
but  growing  more  and  more  distinct,  until  it  loomed 
boldly  out  over  the  heaving  waters,  and  was  again 
gradually  lost,  as  our  lordly  vessel,  like  some  mon- 
ster of  the  deep,  held  its  onward  course. — When 
floundering  on  through  dense  and  impenetrable  fogs, 
we  have  heard  the  faithful  bell  send  forth  its  warninsr 
voice  upon  the  restless  waves,  and  when  suddenly 
meeting  with  some  other  ship  by  night,  we  have  seen 
the  brilliant  sky-rocket  shooting  from  our  deck, 
throwing  a  fitful  glare  upon  the  waste  of  waters,  and 
briefly  revealing  the  outlines  of  the  other  vessel, 
wafted  on  like  some  silent  specter  of  the  sea.  We 
have  held  converse  with  the  "  watch  "  by  night,  and 
have  lent  a  willing  ear  to  the  long  yarns  of  the 
veteran  son  of  Neptune.  We  have  heard  the  hoarse 
"  all's  well  "  rise,  in  the  stillness  of  night,  from  the 
"  bow-watch,"  while  the  cry  was  taken  up  and 
repeated  at  the  larboard,  the  starboard,  and  the  wheel, 
sending  assurance  of  safety  to  the  heart  of  the 
anxious  traveler.  Gazing  down  by  night  upon  the 
phosphoric  fire  that  glimmered  round  our  rushing 
ship,  and  looking  back  upon  the  long  train  of  snow- 
white  foam  that  followed  in  her  wake,  intuitively  we 
have  called  her  the  comet  of  the  waters.  In  fine  we 
have  enjoyed  all  the  beauties  of  a  sea- voyage,  while 
youth  lent  a  golden  tinge  to  every  incident,  and  ere 
that  chilling  of  the  heart,  by  rough  contact  with  the 
world,  had  blunted  the  appetite  for  roniance., 


Memories  over  the  Water.  31 

When  within  a  few  days'  sail  of  our  destination,  an 
incident  occurred,  which  carried  an  electric  excite- 
ment throughout  our  ship.  It  was  about  the  hour  of 
ten  at  night,  and  the  passengers  were  all  gathered  in 
the  main  saloon,  some  reading,  some  conversing,  and 
some  engaged  with  cards  and  dice.  Suddenly,  we 
were  startled  to  our  very  feet,  by  the  loud  cry  of 
"  Hard,  hard  a-port,"  borne  with  thrilling  accent  and 
trumpet-tongue  upon  our  ears,  while  the  hurried 
trampling  of  feet  over-head,  announced  that  some 
danger  was  impending.  An  immediate  rush  was 
made  from  the  cabin  to  the  deck,  which,  as  we 
reached,  we  descried  just  before  us  the  clouded  image 
of  a  schooner.  For  a  few  moments  the  excitement 
was  intense,  and — 

"  The  boldest  held  his  breath 
For  a  time." 

The  deck  was  thronged,  yet  no  one  spoke. — All 
eyes  were  directed  toward  the  devoted  schooner,  and 
all  hearts  hushed,  as  she  floated  on  within  a  few  feet 
of  our  prow.  In  a  moment  the  crash  would  come  or 
the  danger  pass.  The  moment  rolled  by,  and  the 
schooner  came  gliding  hard  upon  our  larboard,  so 
close,  indeed,  that  you  might  have  tossed  a  biscuit  on 
her  deck.  Again  we  drew  our  breath,  and  the  heart 
resumed  its  pulsation,  as  the  danger  passed.  But  a 
narrow  escape  did  the  schooner  run  !  for  rushing  with 
immense  impetus  through  the  thick  fog,  we  had  sud- 
denly come  upon  her,  and  only  by  promptly  checking 
steam,  and  bearing  hard  to  the  right,  we  had  avoided 


32  Memokies  over  the  "Water. 

a  collision.  Ilad  our  mammoth  ship,  going  at  the 
rate  of  twelve  knots  an  hour,  come  in  contact  with 
the  ill-starred  schooner,  her  doom  had  been  scaled. 
She  would  have  gone  down  beneath  our  rushing  prow, 
and  all  her  crew  had  sunk — "unknelled,  uncoffined, 
and  unknown,"  to  the  blue  depths  below.  We  again 
descended  to  our  saloon,  but  so  excited  were  the 
minds  of  the  passengers,  that  at  the  least  unusual 
noise,  you  might  see  their  heads  pop  up  as  if  scenting 
some  new  danger,  and  ready  at  any  moment  to  take 
alarm ;  for  which,  however,  there  was  thenceforward 
no  occasion. 

On  the  morning  of  the  10th  we  heard  the  grateful 
cry  of  "  Land  ho  !"    We  were  standing  on  deck,  and 
though  an  Irish  sailor  was  pointing  out  the  Cape,  we 
could  discover  nothing. — But  the  son  of  Erin  was  not 
mistaken.     His  practiced  eye  had  caught  the  distant 
peaks  of  his  native   coast,  when  w^e  could  discover 
nothing  but  the  Uuq  sky  above  and  the  blue  wave 
beneath  us.    Soon  the  bold,  bleak  shores  of  the  Emer- 
ald Isle — land  of  the  Shillelah  and  Shamrock — loomed 
distinctly  out.     We  fired  a  salute  abreast  of  Holy- 
head,  that   our  approach  might  be   announced,  by 
telegraph,  at  Liverpool  and  London,  and  thence  mov- 
ing on,  we  passed  by  "  old  Kilsale  Point,"  where  the 
ill-fated   Albion   went    down,   and  by   "Derrynane 
Abbey  "—the  castle  of  the  famous   agitator,  Daniel 
O'Connell,  which,  from  the   Channel,  presented  only 
a  flat,  square  appearance,  without  any  architectural 
pretensions.     Stood  on  deck  to  have  a  view, of  Liver- 


Memories  over  the  Water.  33 

pool  as  wo  came  in.  The  scene  was  at  once  lovely 
and  magnificent.  The  sea  was  as  calm  and  placid  as 
Beauty's  sleep,  while  the  broad-flowing  Mersey  swept 
gently  down,  dividing  the  two  cities  of  Liverpool  and 
Birkenhead — the  former  ennobled  by  its  splendid 
docks,  which  are  crowded  with  the  vessels  of  every 
nation  whose  flasr  dances  in  the  breath  of  ocean — the 
latter  beautified  and  adorned  with  quiet  villas.  At 
last,  with  anchor  cast,  and  custom-house  examination 
over,  we  took  one  of  the  numerous  little  tugs,  that 
were  racing  about  in  every  direction,  and  soon  our 
foot  had  pressed  a  foreign  soil,  AVe  stood  in  "  mer- 
rie  old  England  " — the  land  of  our  forefathers — and, 
for  the  first  time,  under  "  petticoat  government." 
3 


CHAPTER    III 


Liverpool  is  a  great  place !  Sucli  at  least  was  our 
conclusion  after  several  clays'  rambling  among  its 
docks,  cabs,  tugs,  beggars  and  police.  The  city 
abounds  in  magnificent  structures — splendid  piles  of 
architecture — the  most  noted  of  which  are  the  Custom- 
House,  the  Exchange,  St.  George's  Hall,  and  the 
Sailor's  Home.  Several  fine  monuments  also  lend 
an  additional  attraction  to  this  great  commercial 
emporium — one  erected  to  the  memory  of  William 
Huskisson,  another  to  Lord  Nelson,  and  one  to  George 
the  Third.  The  amount  of  shipping  at  this  port  is, 
to  one  who  will  look  into  its  numerous  and  extensive 
docks,  ail-but  incredible. 

Just  before  we  landed,  a  friend  who  had  visited 
England  before,  said  to  us — "  Now  if  you  wish  to  see 
a  picture  of  English  life,  don't  go  to  one  of  those 
fashionable  hotels,  to  which  all  Americans  resort, 
but  come  with  me,  and  I  will  show  you  '  mine  host 
of  the  inn,'  a  true  specimen  of  English  life  and 
character."  Nothing  loth  to  adopt  his  suggestion, 
we  proceeded  forthwith  to  Dale  street,  and  made 
ourselves  comfortable  at  the  sign  of  the  "  Saracen's 
Head."    Our  hale  and  hearty  landlord  realized  the 

(34) 


Memouies   over  the  Water.  35 

very  idea  \vc  had  formed  of  an  English  innkeeper.  lie 
usually  sat  at  the  head  of  his  table,  his  "  fair,  round 
belly  with  fat  capon  lined,"  and  his  broad  visage  beam- 
ing with  good  humor,  as  he  carved  with  evident  pride 
and  satisfaction  the  huge  piece  of  roast-beef  that  uni- 
versally graced  the  head  of  his  board.  An  air  of  clean- 
liness and  comfort  pervaded  his  entire  house,  which  at 
once  gave  it  a  pleasant  and  home-like  appearance. 

After  nightfall,  we  determined  on  a  solitary  ramble 
through  the  city,  feeling  no  anxiety  whatever,  cither 
as  to  losing  our  way,  or  meeting  with  any  molestation, 
BO  long  as  an  occasional  policeman,  in  his  close,  blue 
uniform,  and  short,  stout  baton  greeted  our  sight,  for 
we  were  sure  of  his  direction  when  at  a  loss,  and  of 
his  assistance  when  in  a  difficulty.  So,  starting  out 
down  Dale  street,  we  thence  turned  to  the  left,  and 
were  soon  sauntering  under  the  deep  and  somber 
shadows  of  the  old  Custom-IIouse — a  huge,  venerable 
building,  whose  imposing  appearance  had  first  at- 
tracted our  attention  on  our  way  from  the  ship  to  the 
hotel.  We  were  lazily  loitering  along  its  dingy,  time- 
stained  walls,  when,  in  looking  about  us,  we  discov- 
ered that  our  movements  were  watched  by  no  other 
than  a  "polls"  himself,  who  seemed  to  regard  us  as  a 
suspicious  character,  and  to  that  eflect  kept  pace  with 
our  wanderings.  Observing  this,  wo  stopped  under 
the  shadow  of  one  of  the  huge  columns  that  adorn 
each  extremity  of  the  building,  when  he  strolled  care- 
lessly up  and  accosted  us  with  a  civil — "  Good  eve- 
ning, sir !"   Well,  thought  we,  would  it  not  be  a  pretty 


3t)  Memories   over  the  Water. 

story  to  reach  home,  that  on  tlio  first  night  of  our 
arrival  in  Europe  we  were  nabbed  by  a  policeman. 
But,  conscious  of  our  innocent  purposes,  we  returned 
the  salutation,  and  entered  into  conversation  with  our 
friend  of  the  buttons.  He  was  a  ready,  intelligent 
fellow,  and  finding  that  we  were  an  American,  fresh 
from  the  New  World,  he  seemed  to  throw  off  all 
suspicion  and  reserve,  and  conversed  freely  with  us 
about  our  countiy,  and  about  the  World's  Fair,  which 
was  then  being  held  in  London.  It  struck  us  as  a 
peculiar  fact,  that  this  man,  though  within  eight 
hours'  ride  of  the  Crystal  Palace,  had  never  visited 
his  country's  capital ;  that  he  had  trodden  for  years 
his  constant  round,  without  once  having  an  oppor- 
tunity of  stirring  from  his  post,  and  without  one 
dream  of  ever  leaving,  even  for  a  three  days'  absence, 
to  view  the  wonders  of  the  World's  Fair.  It  was 
gi-owing  on  toward  "  the  small  hours  of  night,"  when 
we  bade  our  chance  acquaintance  adieu,  and  repaired 
to  our  hotel,  when  our  flickering  fancies  soon  floated 
away  into  the  land  of  dreams. 

After  spending  several  days  in  the  city,  we  rose 
one  morning  with  the  determination  to  set  out  that 
day  for  London,  and,  in  accordance  with  the  resolve, 
we  shook  hands  with  our  kind  old  landlord,  and 
started  off"  for  "  Edge  Hill  Station  ;"  arrived  at  the 
depot  of  the  London  and  North-Western  Eailroad, 
and  found  the  cars  just  on  the  eve  of  departure.  One 
of  the  porters  seized  our  luggage,  and  broke  off, 
crying — "  Look  sharp,"  while  we  followed  at  a  brisk 


Mkmoriks   ovKit  TiiK  Watkk.  37 

gallop  close  oil  his  heels,  aflbrding  consideraLlc 
amusement  to  the  rest  of  the  passengers,  who,  snugly 
cnseonsed  in  their  seats,  could  aflbrd  to  laugh. 
Reached  the  hindmost  car  just  as  the  train  was  on 
the  move,  when  the  obliging  porter  of  the  London  and 
North-Western  Railroad  pitched  our  baggage  in,  and 
we  tumbled  in  after  it.  Daylight  fades  behind  us. 
and  darkness  visible  presses  upon  our  eyelids,  as  we 
rattle  on  through  "  Edge  Hill  Tunnel,"  with  Liverpool 
city  overhead.  Suddenly  we  again  dash  out  into  the 
light  of  heaven,  and  speed  merrily  onward  over  the 
proud  soil  of  England.  The  landscape,  owing  to  its 
high  state  of  cultivation,  was  the  loveliest  and  richest 
we  had  ever  seen.  The  surface  of  the  country  was 
beautifully  diversified  by  countless  village  churches, 
generally  built  in  the  pure  Gothic  style ;  with  haw- 
thorn hedges,  and  model  cottages,  and  grim  iron  fac- 
tories, with  dark  volumes  of  smoke  rolling  from  their 
sky -piercing  chimnies. 

Eleven  miles  from  London,  we  passed  by  the 
celebrated  school  of  Harrow,  where  Lord  Byron's 
"young  idea  was  first  taught  to  shoot."  A  rush  of 
associations  came  sweeping  over  our  mind,  as  we 
looked  on  that  lovely  hill-side.  The  day  had  been 
dark  throughout,  and  heavy  clouds  had  curtained  in 
the  sky.  But  lo !  as  we  passed  this  spot,  sacred  in 
the  early  memories  of  many  of  England's  gifted  sons, 
the  day -king  smiled  for  an  instant  through  the  craggy 
clouds,  sheddin<]c  a  flood  of  clorious  sunlight  on  the 
scene,  and  thm  all  was  dark  and  gloom  again.     AVe 


44' -^  '^3 


38  Memories   over  the  AVater. 

thought  the  incident  typical  of  the  life  of  the  immor- 
tal bard. 

During  our  transit  from  Liverpool  to  London,  some 
Englishman  in  our  car,  finding  that  there  were  Amer- 
icans aboard,  broached  the  subject  of  slavery.  Now 
it  so  happened  that  there  was  in  our  company  a 
young  Virginian,  who  in  his  heart  believed  that 
slavery  was  not  only  no  stigma  on  his  country's 
escutcheon,  but  was  indeed  a  divine  institution,  or- 
dained by  Heaven  itself,  as  a  means  of  reclaiming 
the  benighted  African  from  the  lowest  depths  of  igno- 
rance and  barbarism  to  the  light  of  knowledge  and 
Christianity.  So,  as  the  unwary  Englishman  con- 
demned, in  no  measured  terms,  the  slaveholding  por- 
tion of  our  country,  he  found  himself  suddenly  picked 
up  by  the  warm-blooded  Southerner,  and  quite  a 
sharp  controversy  ensued.  The  debate  grew  warmer 
still,  yet  neither  would  be  convinced,  until  the  Vir- 
ginian, wheeling  off,  remarked,  in  his  wrath  to  his 
opponent,  that  he  hadn't  the  brains  to  comprehend, 
nor  the  candor  to  confess  the  truth,  and  he  therefore 
declined  all  further  discussion  with  him.  The  dis- 
concerted Englishman  complied  with  this  plain  hint, 
and  the  subject  was  dropped. 

But  away  we  went  racing  on,  and  reached  London 
in  the  midst  of  a  severe  hailstorm,  and  that  too  in 
the  month  of  August.  It  soon  passed  away,  how- 
ever, and  we  proceeded  to  the  "Euston  Hotel,"  situ- 
ated hard  by  the  railroad  depot,  and  we  were  safely 
landed  in  London  city. 


Memories   over  the  Water.  39 

From  our  l)ricf  experience,  wc  judged  the  English 
rail  to  be  superior  to  the  American.     The  speed,  hy 
exjpress^  is  greater,  hut  the  cars,  excepting  the  first 
class,  are  very  inferior,  both  in  point  of  comfort  and 
appearance.     13ut  strength  and  utility  are  legibly  im- 
pressed on  everything  English.     The  English  ladies 
we  found  certainly  neither  so  pretty  nor  so  elegant  as 
our  own — in  point  of  classic  beauty  and  delicate  grace 
no  comparison  can  be  made.     The  English  lady  is, 
generally  speaking,  well-formed,  hearty,  robust.     But 
wo  are  not  disposed  to   admire  woman,  when  she 
seems  so  perfectly  capable  of  self-protection  ;  perhaps 
we  may  admire,  but  to  love  is  out  of  the  question. 
"We  seem  to  feel  that  she  can  battle  her  own  way 
through  life,  and  that  idea  at  once  breaks  down  one 
of  the  strongest  inducements  for  man  to  love.     But 
we  would  not  that  the  Duchess  of  Sutherland,  nor 
any  other  of  Albion's  fair  dames,  should  consider  us 
censorious,  or  disposed  to  meddle  with  matters  which 
concern  us  not;  for,  indeed,  we  found  much  where- 
with to  be  pleased  in  "our  cousins  over  the  water." 
We  have  found  their  women  well-favored,  but  not 
pretty ;   intelligent,  but  not  captivating — their  men 
reserved,  but  not  uncourteous ;  severe,  but  not  un- 
generous. 


CHAPTER    IV, 


Having  located  ourself  in  comfortable  quarters  at 
No.  44,  St.  James'  Place,  we  began  to  open  our  eyes 
on  the  countless  objects  of  interest  to  be  found  in  the 
great  city  of  London.  Our  situation  was  admirably 
adapted  both  for  the  instruction  and  amusement  of  the 
stranger,  for  within  the  reach  of  a  pleasant  walk  were 
Hyde  and  St.  James'  Park,  Westminster  Abbey,  Buck- 
ingham and  St.  James'  Palace,  the  new  House  of 
Lords,  and  many  other  buildings,  whose  names  are 
"  as  household  words  "  to  every  reader  of  English  his- 
tory. "With  a  chosen  companion — young  Taylor,  of 
Tipton,  Tennessee — we  began  a  systematic  survey  of 
the  wealth  of  wonders  about  us.  Our  first  desire  was, 
of  course,  to  seek  the  Crystal  Palace,  and  so  we  were 
soon  on  our  way,  through  the  vast  wilderness  of  houses, 
to  the  grand  international  exhibition.  A  short  ride 
brought  us  to  Hyde  Park,  and  paying  our  admission 
fee  of  one  shilling  at  the  door  of  the  glittering  build- 
ing, we  stood  beneath  the  roof  of  that  fairy  palace, 
amid  the  richest  products  of  earth,  and  among  the 
rarest  inventions  of  the  human  mind.  Never  can  we 
forget,  and  yet  never  can  we  describe  the  magnificent 
scene  that  then  broke  wilderingly  upon  our  vision, 
f  40) 


Memories  over  the  Water,  41 

We  had  expected  to  encounter  sights  of  gorgeous 
splendor  and  magic  beauty,  but  never  did  we  con- 
ceive of  such  a  display  as  then  met  our  wondering 
gaze.  Articles  the  richest,  the  rarest,  the  most  beau- 
tiful, the  most  curious,  the  most  magnificent !  all 
under  the  transparent  roof  of  a  most  exquisite  and 
fairy  structure — producing  such  an  overpowering  effect 
that  the  mind,  when  rushing  forth  to  grasp  them  in 
its  fold,  would  turn  and  seek  again  its  silent  recesses, 
exhausted  by  the  struggle.  A  few  statistical  facts 
may  serve  to  convey  some  slight  idea  of  the  vast  di- 
mensions of  the  palace  and  its  myriad  wonders.  The 
building,  according  to  estimation,  covered  upward  of 
twenty  acres  of  ground.  Its  length  was  eighteen 
hundred  and  fifty-one  feet — a  foot  to  represent  each 
year  from  the  commencement  of  the  christian  era 
down  to  the  time  of  its  erection.  The  entire  length 
of  the  tables,  all  combined,  was  estimated  at  eight 
miles — quite  a  pedestrian  journey  to  one,  who  would 
iimcisehj  undertake  to  see,  at  one  visit,  their  comple- 
ment of  contents. 

We  first  made  a  circuit  round  the  entire  building  on 
the  ground-floor,  and  then  ascending  to  the  galleries 
above  rapidly  scanned  their  arrangement,  in  order  to 
get,  at  first,  a  general  view  of  the  whole,  and  so  under- 
stand the  plan  of  the  building,  that  in  our  succeeding 
visits  we  might  pursue  a  systematic  course  of  inspec- 
tion. The  contributions  from  the  various  nations 
represented  were  ranged  in  their  respective  apart- 
ments, with  the  name  of  the  country  from  which  they 


42  Memoeies  oyer  the  Water. 

came  printed  on  a  red  banner  above.     One  end  of  the 
building  was  allotted  to  the  American  representations, 
while  pretty  much  the  whole  space  of  the  opposite 
extremity  was  appropriated   to,  and  filled  with,  the 
tributes  of  Great  Britain;    the  intermediate  ground 
being  methodically  divided  off  and  distributed  to  the 
various  other  nations.     "We  will  not  detail  the  minutiae 
of  their  contributions,  for  that  were  ail-but  as  endless 
an  effort  as  the  task  of  Sisyphus.     Enough  to  say  that 
during  our  peregrination  through  that  wondrous  struc- 
ture we  looked  on  "the  Mount  of  Light"  and  other 
costly  gems ;  on  beautiful  and  sparkling  fountains ;  on 
glittering  and  gorgeous  furniture ;  on  luxurious  and 
splendid  coaches ;  on  rich  and  dazzling  chandeliers ;  on 
hu2:e  and  maOTificent  mirrors ;  on  fountains  of  cologne- 
water ;  on  antique  curiosities  ;  on  ancient  mosaics ;  on 
curiously- wrought  representations  of  anatomy;  on  ex- 
quisite statuary  and  most  finished  sculpture ;  on  soft 
and  blushing  paintings ;  on  softest  fabrics  of  silk  and 
cotton  ;  on  rarest  machinery  ;  on  implements  of  peace 
and  war ;  on  purple  and  gold  ;  on  beauty  and  utility, 
and  in  fine  on  the  best  specimens  of  all  imaginable 
invention.     One  glance  at   that  goodly   array  from 
under  the  folds  of  the  American  flag,  down  to  where 
the  banner  of  St.  George  drooped  above  the  wealth  of 
the  Encrlish  nation,  were  well  worth  a  flight  across  the 
deep  waters.    The  scene  was  one  of  the  most  animated, 
gorgeous  and  imposing  that  the  imagination  can  pic- 
ture, or  the  fancy  conceive ;  rendered  lovely,  too,  by 
the  thought  that  we  here  behold  a  peaceful ,  union  of 


Memories  otek  the  "Wateu.  43 

all  nations,  who  had  "  heat  their  swords  into  plow- 
shares, and  tlicir  si)earri  into  pruning-hooks,"  all 
min^linir  in  social  concord,  with  no  strife  or  conten- 
tion  among  them,  save  to  excel  in  the  great  and  the 
good.  All  was  order,  good-will  uial  harmony.  'Twas 
a  scene  on  which  poet,  philosopher  and  philanthropist 
might  dwell  with  delight.  The  only  regretful  feeling 
which  came  creeping  over  our  heart  was,  that  our  own 
glorious  land,  though  many  the  honors  awarded  her, 
was  so  inadequately  and  so  unfairly  represented. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  day,  according  to  previous 
agreement,  we  met  friend  Taylor  in  the  transept  of  the 
buildinfr,  l>v  the  beautiful  central  fountain,  whose 
sparkling  waters  sent  a  delightfully  cool  and  refresh- 
ing influence  through  the  densely-crowded  palace. 
Near  by  were  the  exquisitely  beautiful  porti-aits  of  his 
royal  highness  Prince  Albert  and  her  majesty  the 
Queen.  While  attentively  considering  the  latter  we 
observed  to  our  friend,  that  if  report  had  not  much 
slandered  the  royal  lady,  the  portrait  before  us  was 
most  highly  flattering,  for  that  rumor  had  said  that 
dame  nature  had  not  been  very  prodigal  in  her  gifts 
to  Queen  Vic. 

The  words  were  scarcely  out  when  a  burly  Briton 
close  by  retorted,  that  we  were  laboring  under  a  great 
mistake,  and  assured  us  that  the  portrait  was  not  flat- 
tering but  only  a  correct  likeness.  Now,  though  we 
knew  that  this  was  only  a  gratuitous  ebullition  of 
loyal  feeling,  yet  from  the  innate  gallantry  of  our  own 
nature   wo   could  not  dispute   the  fact,   but  silently 


44  Memories  oyer  the  "Water. 

acknowledged  the  enlightenment.  Indeed,  before  we 
had  left  the  sliores  of  England,  we  concluded  that  the 
English  people,  to  this  good  day,  were  as  loval,  from 
lord  to  lackey,  as  in  the  days  of  old,  when  mail-clad 
forms  were  couched,  with  lance  in  rest,  if  but  one 
breath  of  calumny  should  assail  the  heaven-anointed 
monarch.  Tlie  English  are  still  devoted  to  their 
Queen,  not  so  much  by  personal  love  and  attachment, 
but  as  the  embodiment  of  a  principle  to  which  they 
are  wedded. 

About  4  o'clock,  p.  m.,  we  left  the  Crystal  Palace, 
and  strolled  out  upon  the  green-sward  of  Hyde  Park, 
along  the  bank  of  the  Serpentine,  a  small  winding 
lake,  but  more  like  a  river,  that  meanders  through  this 
handsome  space  of  field  and  forest.  Pedestrians  with 
their  sagacious  dogs,  male  and  female  equestrians  on 
their  handsome  horses,  and  elegant  equipages,  con- 
taining the  fashionable  and  noble,  were  to  be  seen  in 
all  directions.  History  and  fiction  have  alike  ren- 
dered Hyde  Park  a  subject  of  interest  to  everybody, 
but  especially  to  the  young  and  imaginative  mind. 
As  we  roved  over  the  soft  turf,  and  rambled  through 
its  quiet  retreats,  we  thought  how  many  a  tale  of  love 
had  been  told  beneath  those  wide-spreaking  oaks — ■ 
how  many  a  heart  had  thrilled  with  sweetest  joy,  and 
alas  I  how  many,  too,  had  been  deceived.  How 
many  an  unknown  story  of  love,  of  treachery  and 
broken  hearts,  had  those  ancient  trees  been  the  silent 
witness — an  unrecorded  drama  in  the  history  of  each 
sullcring  spirit.     Earth  was  pillowed  upon  the  bosom 


Memories  over  the  Water.  45 

of  nij^ht — toil  had  rocked  licr  softly  to  rest — silence 
hung  like  a  heavy  mantle  over  her  slumbers,  -while 
the  starry  firmament  above,  flung  out  like  some  broad 
banner  from  the  battlements  of  heaven,  curtained  in 
her  couch,  Naught  else  heard  or  spoke,  save  the 
"wind,  as  it  wooed  the  dim  old  woods,  and  the  rustlincr 
leaves  as  they  whispered  the  tale  about. 

But  away  with  musing — for  just  now  a  "  still, 
small  voice  "  was  whispering  that  we  had  passed  the 
day — without  our  dinner.  Being  thus  admonished, 
we  were  oflf  in  a  trice  for  this  indispensable  item  of 
life,  and  while  cozily  seated  at  our  table,  our  reflec- 
tions were  something  in  this  wise — "  Well,  London  is, 
upon  the  whole,  quite  a  pleasant  place — provided  your 
shillings  arc  abundant,  but  if  you  have  not  a  super- 
fluity of  cash,  why  then  you  have  no  business  in  this 
vast  metropolis.  Money  is  here  a  friend  on  whom 
you  may  safely  rely,  while  you  have  him  in  posses- 
sion, but  one  who  ''loill  leave  and  forsake  you '  at 
every  turn." 

Just  here  we  were  about  to  give  an  order,  but 
involuntarily  hesitated,  when,  on  looldng  up,  wc  dis- 
covered, instead  of  Sir  Ebony,  a  gentleman  "in 
cloth,"  with  white  vest  and  white  cravat,  meekly 
awaiting  our  commands. — But  our  democratic  scru- 
ples soon  vanished  before  the  returning  thought  that 
we  were  still  master  so  long  as  the  potent  shilling 
rested  in  our  x^urse,  and  so  suflered  the  elegant  waiter 
to  obey  our  behest,  without  discountenance,  and  in 
his  own  subservient  wav. 


46  Memories  over  tuv:  Water. 

Having  dined,  our  next  f[ucry  was  '•  in  what,  man- 
ner should  we  spend  the  evening  ?"  Taylor  was 
fatigued,  and  positively  swore  he  would  not  stir  fortli 
that  night ;  so,  per  necessity,  we  must  go  it  alone. 
Sallying  out  under  the  blazing  glare  of  the  gas-light, 
we  strolled  up  the  Strand,  and  turned  in  at  the 
Lyceum,  wdiere  "Only  a  Clod,"  "Court  Beauties," 
and  "King  Charming  "  were  performed.  "We  were 
much  pleased  with  the  evening's  entertainment — the 
scenic  effect  in  the  last  play  being  superior  to  anything 
of  the  kind  w^e  had  yet  witnessed.  To  add  to  the 
attractions  of  the  bill,  twenty-four  young  girls,  charm- 
ingly dressed  in  light  floating  gauze,  appeared  in  the 
ballet,  with  eight  banners  in  their  hands,  represent- 
ing eight  several  nations,  under  which  they  succes- 
sively danced  the  national  dance  of  each  country 
represented.  Among  the  flags  shone  conspicuous 
"  the  stars  and  stripes."  "  Yankee  Doodle  "  w-as  the 
air,  and  something  which  we  supposed  the  "pigeon- 
wins  "  was  the  dance  attributed  to  America. 

How  it  causes  the  heart  of  the  stranger  to  swell 
with  untold  emotions,  to  hear  the  national  air  of  his 
own  dear  land,  while  w^andering  over  foreign  shores, 
especially,  too,  w^ith  the  well-loved  banner  of  his 
country  before  his  eyes.  One  thus  situated  can  never 
have  those  feelings  erased  from  his  memory,  though 
the  snows  of  many  winters  may  whiten  his  brow,  and 
the  tide  of  many  years  sti-ive  to  pour  forgetfulness 
over  the  scenes  of  his  early  youth.  And  we  would 
ask  no   stronger  current  of  cherished  memories  to 


Memories  oveu  tiii:  Watek.  47 

come  sweeping  over  the  bending  heart,  than  to  hear, 
as  we  have  heard,  the  sweet  notes  of  some  favorite 
song,  oft  heard  from  beauty's  lips  at  home,  suddenly 
to  greet  the  ear,  where  many  a  weary  mile,  and  many 
a  restless  billow,  intervene  between  the  pilgrim  and 
the  home  of  his  fathers.  It  chains  the  very  spirit 
into  stillest  mood,  and  wakes  the  "key-note  of  the 
saddest  dirge  that  fancy  ever  played  to  melancholy." 


CHAPTER   V, 


A  STROLL  through  St.  James'  Park  serves  as  an 
excellent  antidote  to  the  "  noise  and  confusion  of  the 
Strand.  Buckingham  Palace,  the  Queen's  city  resi- 
dence, fronts  down  the  Park,  and  is  quite  a  royal 
building.  Standing  in  front  of  the  Palace,  and  look- 
ing down  the  Park,  you  see  the  lofty  towers  of  West- 
minster peeping  over  the  tree-tops  to  the  left,  while 
just  to  the  right  of  the  Abbey,  rises  the  unfinished 
tower  of  the  new  House  of  Lords.  St.  James' 
Palace,  where  the  Queen  holds  her  Court,  lies  over  to 
the  right,  fronting  up  St.  James-street,  at  the  foot  of 
Pall  Mall,  and  presents  a  queer  old  face  to  your  view, 
with  its  time-stained  walls  and  peaked  towers.  Just 
outside  the  high  iron  fence,  that  fronts  Buckingham 
Place,  promenade  the  stiff  English  sentinels,  in  their 
blood-red  coats,  snow-white  pants,  and  high  conical 
fur  hats.  Lolling  about  over  the  soft  sward,  may  be 
seen  the  city-bred  Londoners,  rolling  over  the  green 
grass,  as  if  the  very  contact  did  their  souls  good. 
Swans  and  ducks  paddle  unmolested  about  in  the 
Park  lake,  and  seem  well  content  with  their  pen- 
sion . 

(  48.^ 


Memories  oveii  the  Watek.  49 

Starting  out  early  ono  morning — friend  Taylor  and 
ourself — we  took  an  outside  berth  aboard  a  "  bussy  " 
on  Piccadilly,  and  went  lumbering  toward  St.  Taul's 
Cathedral.  Passing  through  Trafalgar  Square,  under 
the  shadow  of  Lord  Nelson's  colossal  monument,  we 
wended  our  way  np  Fleet-street  and  the  Strand. 
Occasionally  a  pair  of  horses  would  have  their  feet 
tripped  from  under  them  on  the  slippery  pavement, 
which  would  for  a  moment  block  np  the  street,  and 
impede  our  progi-ess. — Immediately,  however,  on  such 
an  occurrence,  you  might  see  half-a-dozen  active 
policemen,  diving  about  among  the  innumerable  vehi- 
cles, checking  some,  and  urging  on  others,  until  all 
were  again  fairly  "under- weigh."  How  implicitly 
everything  obeys  the  beck  of  a  policeman's  wand  ! 
To  dispute  his  authority  were  a  piece  of  presumption 
passing  all  belief. 

But  speaking  of  "  busses,"  we  cannot  forbear 
mentioning  a  mishap  which  befell  an  Irish  acquain- 
tance in  the  streets  of  London.  He  was  an  aged 
man,  but  an  excellent  specimen  of  the  rollicking  Irish 
character.  Having  occasion  to  go  some  distance,  he 
concluded,  in  order  to  have  a  fair  view  of  his  route 
through  the  city,  that  he  would  mount  to  the  roof  of 
the  omnibus,  which  was  rather  a  precarious  experi- 
ment for  his  tottering  limbs.  He,  however,  reached 
the  top  in  safety,  but  no  sooner  was  the  heavy  coach 
under  full  headway,  than  he  began  to  tremble  for  the 
security  of  his  position.     At  every  crossing,  the  huge 

omnibus  would  rear  up  and  down  like  a  vessel  on  the 
4 


50  Memories  oyer  the  Water. 

waves,  aud  as  often  would  the  son  of  Erin  seize  his 
nearest  neighbor  for  support.  At  last,  up  suddenly 
bounced  the  "  bussy,"  and  away  glided  our  friend 
over  the  side.  On  his  way  he  grabbed,  with  the 
grip  of  a  vice,  the  fat  leg  of  an  Englishman,  who,  in 
turn,  clung  to  his  next  companion,  at  the  same  time 
roaring  "  Murder  !"  at  the  top  of  his  voice.  But  our 
Irish  friend  had  not  the  time  just  then  to  bandy  civili- 
ties, or  beg  pardon  for  his  rudeness  ;  but  picking  out 
as  soft  a  place  as  he  could  find,  he  fell  sprawling  on 
his  back,  into  the  very  center  of  a  lake  of  mud,  spat- 
tering a  perfect  deluge  of  mire  on  every  side.  Recov- 
ering his  feet,  he  escaped  the  imminent  danger  of 
being  run  over,  but  presenting  an  appearance  over- 
whelmingly ludicrous.  A  crowd  began  at  once  to 
gather  around  him,  but  giving  one  despairing  glance 
at  his  bedaubed  attire,  he  rushed  into  the  nearest 
empty  omnibus,  and  dived  down  into  its  farthest  cor- 
ner. Peace  to  your  memory,  friend  ]\Iac  !  for  many 
a  joke  have  we  heard  you  crack  over  that  day's 
adventure,  until  we  verily  thought  our  sides  would 
split. 

But  we  were  on  our  way  to  St.  Paul's. — Keaching 
this  venerable  monument  of  the  past,  we  took  tickets 
for  the  whole  building  ;  for,  be  it  known,  that  in  this 
great  city,  churches,  like  theaters,  must  be  seen  by 
the  purchase  of  your  permission.  Leaving  the  ground- 
floor  of  the  imposing  edifice,  witli  its  countless  marble 
monuments,  we  commenced  our  journey  upward, 
under  the    guidance  of   one   of   tlio    church -pilots. 


Mkmokies  ovKii  TiiK  "Waticu.  51 

Among  the  curiosities  which  are  shown  the  stranger, 
we  saw  the  library-room,  with  its  curious,  nailless 
floor  of  tesselatcd  oak,  musty  volumes,  and  antique 
sacred  music ;  the  geometrical  staircase — the  first  of 
the  kind  ever  constructed  iu  England  ;  the  trophy- 
room  of  Lord  Nelson,  wherein  are  many  colors  taken 
li'om  the  enemy,  also  a  huge  lantern  that  figured  in 
the  burial  of  the  heroic  naval  commander ;  the  Whis- 
pering gallery  ;  the  great  Bell ;  and  then  the  outside 
"  golden  gallery,"  whence  is  to  be  had  the  finest  view 
that  can  be  obtained  of  London.  But  now,  to  "  cap 
the  climax,"  we  left  our  hat  below,  and  commenced 
the  arduous  task  of  climbing  up  into  "  the  ball."  By 
dint  of  hard  work,  we  finally  succeeded,  and  enjoyed 
the  commendable  ambition  of  being  squatted  in  a 
small  iron  cage  at  the  highest  elevation  in  London 
city,  but  putting  like  a  porpoise,  and  feeling  an 
instinctive  dread  lest  our  lofty  lodge  should  topple 
over,  and  we  roll  headlong  to  the  earth.— But  our 
purpose  being  accomplished,  we  descended  to  the 
ground,  well  willing  to  stand  once  more  on  "terra 
firma." 

We  now  engaged  a  "  cabby,"  and  passing  through 
the  celebrated  London  Docks,  we  rattled  away  for  tiic 
Tunnel  of  the  Thames. — Paid  a  penny  each  to  enter, 
and  descended  by  a  winding  staircase,  ornamented 
with  fresco  paintings,  to  the  floor  of  the  Tunnel. 
Eeaching  the  bottom,  we  \\\'\v.  induced,  by  the  elo- 
quence of  the  doorkeeper,  to  enter  a  small  apartment, 
fitted  u]->  with  microscopic  glasses,  througli  wliioli  we 


52  Memories  ovek  the  Water. 

looked,  and  saw  many  well-wronght  battle-scenes, 
dazzling  bright  under  the  light  of  the  lamps,  and 
wrapped  in  the  lurid  glare  of  the  battle-shock. 
Thence  we  strolled  on  through  the  Tunnel,  brilliantly 
'  illuminated  with  gas,  and  decorated  with  the  stalls  of 
toy-venders.  The  Tunnel  is  1,200  feet  long,  and 
presents  a  very  picturesque  appearance,  with  its 
lights,  and  stalls,  and  throngs  of  pedestrians.  Its 
original  design  was  for  the  passage  of  vehicles,  which, 
however,  was  defeated  by  the  enormous  expense  that 
would  have  been  incun-ed  by  the  purchase  of  suffi- 
cient ground  at  each  end  to  admit  of  a  gradual 
descent  into  the  Tunnel. 

As  we  strolled  along,  with  the  muddy  Thames 
rolling  overhead,  we  were  accosted  by  a  merry  naiad, 
who  desired  us  to  purchase  some  little  mementoes  of 
the  Tunnel  "for  our  friends  in  America."  "And 
how  know  you  we  are  an  American  ?"  returned  we  in 
surprise.  "  Ah  !  sir,  that  is  easily  discovered,"  quoth 
the  fair  water-nymph.  Of  course,  we  complied  with 
her  request  to  select  some  one  of  her  toys,  and  the 
more  willingly,  that  we  might  linger  near  this 
divinity  of  the  Thames,  for  she  possessed  that  pass- 
port to  the  heart  of  man — a  w^inning  manner,  with  a 
fair  face,  and  an  eye  of  blue  that  would  rival  the  hue 
of  heaven's  deepest  arch.  We  left  the  fair  daughter 
of  the  Thames,  but  with  the  mental  reservation,  that 
our  first  should  not  be  our  last  visit  to  the  Tunnel. 


CHAPTEPt    VI. 


Leaving  the  Tuimcl,  wc  now  started  for  the  Tower, 
witli  about  a  dozen  ra^-o-ed  urchins  swarmino;  round 
our  cab,  and  craving  a  penny.  One  little  fellow, 
emaciated  and  lame,  hobbled  on  after  us,  with  his 
thin  and  beseeching  countenance,  until  his  persever- 
ance was  rewarded,  when  he  returned  rejoicing  to  his 
companions,  whether  to  divide  with  them  the  spoil  or 
hoard  it  for  the  relief  of  a  destitute  and  suffering  home- 
circle  we  know  not. 

A  short  ride  brought  us  to  the  far-famed  "  Tower 
of  London,"  around  whose  name  history  has  woven  a 
spell  more  wild  and  fanciful  than  the  weird  wand  of 
bewitching  romance  ever  threw  over  the  enthralled 
mind  of  the  schoolboy.  For  here  the  gentle  and  the 
bravo  have  alike  been  debarred  the  sweet  breath  of 
heaven,  lingering  in  long  confinement,  until  even  the 
voice  of  hope  had  ceased  to  whisper  one  cheering 
word,  dving  darklv  out  from  the  sick  heart,  and 
fleeing  like  some  pale  specter  from  the  temple,  where 
it  had  long  sat  the  solitary  occupant.  Here  the  fair 
princes  of  Edward  were  murdered  in  their  guileless 
childhood,  innocent  victims  to  the  bloody  ambition  of 
their  uncle  Gloster.     Here  the  sweet  Lady  Jane  Gray, 

(53) 


5-1  Memokies   over  the  Water. 

persuaded  contrary  to  her  own  inclinations  to  accept 
lier  crown,  which  pressed  as  a  burning  brand  upon 
her  fair  brow,  was  locked  in  dungeon  dank  and  dark, 
and  greeted  the  smile  of  day  only  to  pass — a  gentle 
sufferer,  a  patient  martyr,  and  a  true  heroine — to  an 
ignominious  death.     Here  the  brave  Sir  Walter  ling- 
ered for   twelve  long  years   wdthin   his   prison-cell, 
where  stygian  darkness  dwells,  and  where  the  foul 
spider  wove  his  web,  mocking  in  its  calm  content  the 
wild  and  feverish  throbbings  of  that  high-born  heart, 
accustomed  to  the  stirring  excitement  of  love,  ambi- 
tion, and  brave  deeds,  but  now  wasting  under  the 
consuming  fires  of  slow  and  lingering  confinement. 
We  entered  the  dark  recess,  and  as  we  groped  our 
way  through  his  dismal  cell,  we  thought  what  ages  of 
duration  must  have  been  crowded  in  those  twelve 
years,  as  they  dragged  on  their  weary  length,  each 
hour  a  year,  each  year  a  century  in  itself.     On  the 
door  of  his  dungeon  we  found  the  Scriptural  inscrip- 
tion— "  He  that  eudureth  to  the  end  shall  be  saved." 
In  the  chapel  of  "  St.  Peter  in  Yinculis"  lie  the  head- 
less bodies  of  Fisher,  Ann  Boleyn,  Thomas  Cromwell, 
Catharine  Iloward,  the  Duke  of  Somerset,  and  the 
Duke  of  Monmouth. 

On  entering  the  gates  of  the  Tower  the  stranger 
first  procures  his  tickets,  and  then  takes  his  seat  in  a 
small  anteroom,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  other  visitors, 
until  a  full  compliment  is  made  up.  This  is  done  for 
the  economy  of  time,  for  there  is  ever  a  constant 
throng  pouring  in,  and   it  would  be  impossible  to 


Memories  over  the  Water.  55 

show  each  visitor  tlirough  separately.  Our  company 
was  soon  made  up,  and  we  were  marshaled  ofi"  by  one 
of  the  numerous  guides  in  gay  and  gaudy  livery, 
through  the  various  apartments.  "Wc  first  entered 
the  "  Horse  Armory."  Ilerc  the  collection  of  eques- 
trian knights  is  certainly  extensive  and  interesting  to 
the  curious.  The  most  striking  are  the  eflSgies  of  the 
Kings  of  England,  mounted  on  their  steeds  of  war, 
and  clad  "cap-a-pie"  in  their  burnished  armor.  The 
line  commences  with  "William  the  Conqueror  and 
extends  to  George  the  Second.  But  a  feeling  of  dis- 
appointment came  over  us  as  wc  looked  along  the 
glittering  line.  We  had  thought,  as  we  stepped 
before  those  mail-clad  forms,  to  have  the  embodiments 
of  the  past  before  our  eyes — to  feel  ourself  carried  far 
away  into  the  dim  shadows  of  the  days  of  yore,  and 
feel  a  solemn  assurance  that  we  were  treading  the 
courts  of  antiquity,  mingling  by  easy  fancy  amid 
scenes  softened  by  the  touch  of  romance  and  hallowed 
by  the  dust  of  far-distant  ages — but  no  such  sensation 
could  we  realize ;  all  seemed  modern  and  new ;  the 
very  armor  was  all  burnished  and  bright.  The  voluble 
guide  within,  the  rumbling  of  the  heavy  cartwheels 
without,  the  ringing  of  the  mason's  hammer  en^asred 
in  repairing  the  building,  all  broke  the  spell,  and  told 
that  we  were  still  in  the  active  present,  where  all 
were  battling,  not  for  the  honor  of  chivalry  or  the  light 
of  lady's  eye,  but  for  the  potent  dollar  or  the  magic 
shilling.     We  stood  before  the  grim  iron  forms  of 


66  Memories   oyer  the  "Water. 

England's  kings,  but  felt  not  the  august  presence  of 
Albion's  majesty,  unable  to  doff  our  hat  before  the 
royal  brow,  or  to  bend  reverently  before  the  shrine  of 
the  past.     After  passing  through  the  several  armo- 
ries— replete  with  arms,  foreign  trophies,  and  historical 
curiosities — we  were  finally  conducted  to  the  jewel 
office,  where  for  safe-keeping  the  crown  jewels  are 
deposited.     The  whole  regalia  presented  a  most  daz- 
zling and  magnificent  appearance,  with  its  scepters, 
crowns,  crosses,  swords  and  spurs,  all  studded  with 
diamonds  enough  to  make  the  eye  of  woman  dance 
with   delight,  or   the   fingers   of  the   miser   ache  to 
clutch.     The  entire  collection  is  valued  at  fifteen  mil- 
lion dollars,  and  the  crown  of  the  present  Queen  at 
five  millions  of  dollars.     With  a  look  at  the  "  Bloody 
Tower,"   and   the   "Traitor's   Gate"   our  visit   was 
concluded. 

On  the  following  morning  we  started  out,  afoot  and 
alone,  bending  our  way  toward  Westminster  Abbey, 
where  sleep  Albion's  noble  dead.  We  were  soon 
within  its  sacred  precincts,  loitering  in  "the  dim  reli- 
gious light"  of  this  time-honored  Abbey,  and  looking 
over  the  many  monuments  erected  to  heroes,  naval 
and  military ;  celebrities,  civil  and  ecclesiastic  ;  poets 
and  orators.  Lord  Byron  has  been  denied  a  resting- 
place  in  "the  poet's  corner,"  which,  however,  can 
never  be  complete  without  him.  And  yet  tliey  have 
placed  there  monumental  marble  to  the  memory  of 
the  profligates  Sheridan,  Tope,  and  others  of  equally 


Memories  over  the  Water.  57 

culpable  character.  "  O  rare  Ben  Johnson"  meets 
your  eye  to  the  left  as  you  enter,  while  the  immortal 
Shakspeare  stands  immediately  on  your  right. 

After  looking  over  the  more  plebeian  monuments, 
we  dropped  our  admission  fee  into  the  "itching  palm" 
of  the  holy  sexton,  and  commenced  a  survey  of  the 
series  of  chapels,  wherein  repose  the  relics  of  the 
kings  and  queens  of  England.  Among  the  most  con- 
spicuous monuments  are  the  tombs  of  Mary  queen  of 
Scots,  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  the  shrine  of  Edward 
the  Confessor.  As  we  looked  on  those  cold  marble 
figures,  in  the  attitude  of  death,  with  hands  meekly 
folded  over  rude  warrior  and  gentle  woman,  we  could 
but  think  how  empty  and  how  vain  the  emoluments 
of  this  life.  Those  moldering  ashes  of  royalty  lie 
as  unconscious  of  their  honored  resting-place  as  those 
of  the  veriest  beggar  of  their  rude  neglect.  And 
then  we  thought  that  we  would  not  have  our  body  to 
rest  in  the  dark  and  chilly  gloom  of  the  cathedral,  but 
rather  in  some  sweet  and  quiet  spot,  out  in  the  open 
fields  and  under  the  smile  of  the  blue  skies,  where  no 
cold  and  heavy  marble  should  weigh  upon  our  breast, 
but  the  sod  grow  green,  the  summer  winds  blow,  and 
the  wild  flowers  bloom  upon  our  simple  grave. 

Leaving  the  elaborate  architecture  of  Westminster, 
we  passed  on  up  to  Charing-Cross,  passing  the  new 
House  of  Lords,  which,  when  completed,  will  bo  a 
most  splendid  building.  Then  took  a  cab  and  called 
upon  our  millionaire  minister  at  his  residence  on  Pic- 
cadilly, whom  w^e  found  a  venerable  and  courteous 
"5 


68  Memories  over  the  Water. 

gentleman,  kind  and  cordial  in  his  manner  toward  all 
bis  countrymen.  Went  thence  to  the  National  Gallery, 
situated  on  Trafalgar  Square,  and  made  a  rapid  sur- 
vey of  its  paintings,  some  of  which  were  from  the 
magic  pencil  of  Raphael,  Rubens,  Rembrandt,  Corre- 
gio,  Claude,  Guido,  Titian,  Velasquez,  and  a  host  of 
others  of  lesser  note;  made  a  tour  of  the  several 
rooms  and  took  our  departure,  glad  to  escape  the 
crowd  and  the  clouds  of  dust  raised  by  the  sweeping 
dresses  of  the  numerous  ladies.  Strolled  thence  up 
Regent  street,  passing  through  Portland  Place,  round 
Park  Crescent  and  Park  Square  into  Regent  Square, 
one  of  the  loveliest  spots  in  the  neighborhood  of  Lon- 
don, Our  foot  fairly  joyed  to  press  the  green-sward, 
as  we  rambled  on,  with  buoyant  spirit  and  elastic 
step,  under  the  cool  shade  of  the  wide-branching  oaks. 
Erelong  the  classic  Holford  House,  nestling  its  white 
front  in  the  deep  green  woods,  attracted  our  attention 
and  elicited  our  admiration.  But  onward  still  we 
t^-amp,  pay  our  shilling,  and  enter  the  Zoological 
Gardens,  where  may  be  found  "the  beasts  of  the 
field,  the  fowls  of  the  air,  and  the  fishes  of  the  sea," 
The  grounds  are  beautifully  laid  out,  and  bloom 
with  every  variety  of  shrub  and  flower.  Left  the 
gardens  and  went  out  toward  the  left,  when  we  came 
in  view  of  a  bold,  high  hill,  smooth  as  velvet,  and 
without  a  tree  to  break  its  outline  on  the  sky,  and 
beyond  which  the  blood-red,  rayless  sun  was  just 
sinking.  The  hill-side  was  covered  with  men  and 
boys,  engaged  in  the  old  English  sports,  with  a  dim 


Memokies   over  the  Water.  69 

and  liazy  atmosphere  resting  over  the  busy  scene. 
It  seemed,  as  we  stood  and  looked  on  the  panorama 
before  us,  that  long  ago,  away  in  our  early  boyhood, 
we  had  once  dreamed  of  the  very  identical  scene 
spread  before  our  eyes.  Some  picture  from  the  dark 
background  of  the  past  rises  indistinctly  up,  and  is 
succeeded  by  a  spectral  host,  as  fond  memory  pours 
forth  in  pale  and  shadowy  train  her  trooping  phan- 
toms, yielding  obedience  to  her  fairy  wand,  like  as 
the  fabled  genii  of  old,  called  from  their  dark  abodes 
by  the  voice  of  the  magician. 


CIIAPTEIl    VII 


London  is  an  inexhaustible  Held  for  the  investiga- 
tion of  the  cui'ious  stranger,  and  we  might  dwell  with- 
out limit  on  its  myriad  wonders.  We  might  tell  of 
the  British  Musem,  and  the  Queen's  Opera ;  of  the 
Vernon  gallery,  and  the  Royal  mews ;  of  the  London 
docks,  and  the  beer  vaults;  of  the  fish  market,  and  the 
Burlington  Arcade ;  of  Greenwich  and  Woolwich ;  of 
the  old  Bailey  and  Bow-street,  of  churches  and  theaters; 
of  the  Strand  by  day,  and  of  Regent  street  by  gas 
light,  and  in  fine,  of  matters  innumerable  peculiar  to 
the  city  of  London.  But  weary  of  the  din  and  smoke 
we  sigh  for  the  pure  atmosphere  of  travel,  and  so  we  '11 
plume  our  wings  for  sunny  France. 

About  3  o'clock  a.  m.,  we  were  roused  by  "  Boots," 
according  to  orders,  who  buckled  on  our  trunks,  gave 
the  last  touch  of  his  nimble  brush  to  our  wardrobe, 
saw  us  seated  in  our  cab,  and  receiving  his  farewell 
bonus,  wished  us  a  long  life  and  a  happy  journey,  as 
we  dashed  away  from  St.  James'  Place.  We  had 
started  for  the  special  express  train,  by  means  of 
which  passengers  from  London  reach  Paris  in  eleven 
hours.  It  was  in  the  cold  gray  of  the  morning,  the 
streets  were  comparatively  clear,  and  we  rattled  on  at 
a  rapid   pace  over   the  well-paved   road.   ,We  were 

(CO) 


Memories  over  the  Water.  61 

rather  behind  our  time,  and  bo  ordered  "  cabhv  "  to 
drive  like  Jehu.  He  did  his  duty,  and  so  did  his 
trotter,  but  we  reached  the  railway  station  just  as  the 
snortinff  iron  steed  had  bounded  from  his  stable. 
Fo^s:  and  Brevard  had  also  arrived  a  moment  too  late, 
and  so  our  misfortune  was  consolingly  mutual.  To 
ffo  back,  WG  were  one  and  all  resolved  not  to  do,  and 
so  concluded  to  take  the  6  o'clock  train  down  to 
Brighton.  The  hour  arrived  and  we  were  on  the  move, 
rejoicing  to  escape  the  uproar  of  city,  and  no-wise  loth 
to  fiee  the  impositions  there  practiced  on  the  unwary. 
A  few  hours'  ride  over  green  glades  and  through 
chalky  tunnels  brought  us  to  Brighton — that  watering 
place  so  famous  in  English  novels.  After  breakfasting 
in  one  of  the  numerous  coffee-houses  we  strolled  over 
the  city,  which  contains,  it  is  said,  in  the  fashion- 
able season,  a  population  of  eighty  thousand,  while 
the  permanent  citizens  number  only  thirty  thousand, 
leaving  a  floating  population  of  fifty  thousand.  An 
amusing  feature  of  this  city  is  the  great  number  of 
miniature  carriages,  drawn  by  goats^  in  harness ;  a 
convenience,  we  supposed,  for  gouty  squires,  and 
superannuated  dames.  Saw  the  royal  pavilion,  one 
of  Victoria's  numerous  country  seats,  but  which,  we 
were  told,  she  had  never  occupied,  though  reserved 
for  her  exclusive  use.  Many  of  the  houses  arc  beau- 
tifully stuccoed  witii  dark  gravel,  which,  with  their 
verandas,  present  an  appearance,  at  once  elegant  and 
unique.  Ascended  Ilace  Hill,  just  back  of  the  city, 
and  from  its  bold,  bald  summit,  had  a  fine  view  of 


62  Memories   oyer  the  Water. 

the  city  and  its  channel ;  met  here  with  a  picture  a 
rural  life  in  the  olden  time,  viz:  the  shepherd  boys 
with  their  crooks  and  sasjacious  dosrs,  tendinef  their 
flocks  in  the  open  fields.  At  6  o'clock  p.  m.,  we  took 
the  cars  for  New  Haven,  a  small  port  on  the  coast  of 
England,  and  at  11  o'clock  at  night  we  put  out  into 
the  boisterous  English  channel,  on  a  small  and  filthy 
steamer,  bound  for  the  port  of  Dieppe,  on  the  coast  of 
France.  A  more  disagreeable  and  nauseating  night 
we  never  passed,  than  on  board  that  little  "dug-out," 
as  it  danced  exultingly  over  the  rough  waters  of  the 
Channel.  The  very  memoiy  of  our  internal  agonies, 
and  external  circumstances,  causes  us  even  now  to 
shudder.  The  night  was  dark  as  Erebus,  and  the 
waters  dashed  madly  against  our  frail  vessel,  as  she 
pushed  out  into  the  angry  elements.  Our  steamer 
was  unprovided  with  berths,  and  so  great  was  the 
number  of  passengers  on  the  occasion,  that  not  even 
a  sofa  or  a  chair  could  be  paraded  for  the  accommo- 
dation of  each  one  of  us.  We,  however,  crowded 
down  into  the  cabin,  which  soon  became  almost  equal 
to  the  "  Black-hole  of  Calcutta;"  so  much  so  that  we 
could  endure  the  close  atmosphere  and  constant  vol- 
canic heavings  for  only  a  short  while,  and  then  sought 
relief  on  deck,  which,  though  cold  and  comfortless 
was  yet  preferable  to  the  foul  confinement  below. 
With  our  overcoat  about  us  we  lay  down  on  the 
hard  boards,  while  our  wee  bit  of  a  craft  was  dancins: 
like  a  feather  tossed  to  and  fro  by  the  wind.  In  fact  we 
were  just  in  that  peculiar  state  of  indifierence,  which 


Memories  over  the  "Water.  63 

renders  one  perfectly  insensible  to  all  other  sufferings, 
and  callous  even  to  his  own  life.  Before  morning 
dawned  we  stumbled  once  again  down  into  the  cabin, 
and  despite  our  own  physical  demolition,  we  could  not 
suppress  a  smile  at  the  scene  before  us.  Friend 
Taylor,  who  possessed,  in  an  eminent  degree,  that 
faculty  of  ever  being  at  home  ;  had  managed,  by  some 
art  of  Jious  pocus^  to  secure  an  entire  sofa,  and  was 
stretched  out  at  full  length,  reveling  in  the  luxuiy  of 
unbroken  sleep,  and  hlissfully  ignorant  of  all  that 
was  transpiring  about  him.  A  few  feet  off  were  two 
surly  sons  of  England,  who,  not  having  even  sufficient 
room  for  a  comfortable  seat,  described  their  sufferings 
as  perfectly  "stunning,"  and  swore  heartily  at  the 
prostrate  form  of  our  friend  for  a  d — d  lazy  rascal, 
because  he  seemed  so  entirely  comfortable  and  recon- 
ciled to  the  evils  of  the  hour.  He,  though,  slept  hap- 
pily on,  without  once  knowing  w^hat  an  object  of 
malice  and  envy  he  was  to  those  about  him. 

But  "finis  omnibus  est,"  and  so  at  last  the  long 
night  wore  away,  and  the  morn  broke,  like  an  angel 
visitant  above  our  heads,  and  about  9  o'clock  a.  m., 
we  reached  Dieppe.  Our  vessel  was  brought  up  into 
her  accustomed  berth,  and  arrangements  made  for  the 
examination  of  passports  and  baggage.  About  thirty 
yards  from  the  shore  sat  the  Custom-IIousc  office, 
on  each  side  of  which  were  attached  ropes,  reaching 
down  to  the  vessel's  side,  thus  forming  an  inclosed 
space  into  which  the  passengers  were  huddled  like  so 
many  pigs  in  a  pen.     From  this  temporary  quaran- 


64  Memories  ovek  the  Water, 

tine  we  were  passed  one  by  one  tlirongh  the  Ciistom- 
House  office — in  at  one  door,  and  out  at  another,  as 
the  passport  and  baggage  of  each  passenger  was  suc- 
cessively examined.  Beside  this  office  there  were  two 
additional  wings,  appropriated  for  the  examination  of 
the  persons  of  the  two  sexes,  whenever  they  might 
present  a  suspicious  appearance.  Without  knowing 
whither  we  were  going  we  found  ourself  suddenly 
hustled  into  one  of  these  apartments,  when  one  of 
the  officials  proceeded  to  place  his  hand  on  each  one 
of  our  pockets,  in  quest  of  contraband  articles.  His 
search  was,  however,  merely  nominal,  and  of  course, 
fruitless,  when  he  politely  bowed  us  out  at  one  door 
and  turned  to  perform  the  same  kind  office  on  another. 

At  last  free  from  this  tedious  and  farcical  proceed- 
ing, we  got  breakfast  at  "  Morgan's  Hotel,"  well 
known  by  every  stranger  as  the  first  in  the  city,  and 
at  half-past  eleven  we  took  our  seats  in  the  cars  bound 
for  the  French  capital.  The  French  cars  we  found  far 
more  comfortable  than  the  English,  and  provided  with 
lamps,  which,  like  those  of  Vesta,  are  kept  continu- 
ally burning,  to  lighten  the  gloom  of  the  damp,  dark 
tunnels,  which  are  so  abundant  on  this  road. 

On  reaching  the  fine  old  city  of  Rouen,  celebrated 
in  history  as  the  place  where  Joan  of  Arc  was  burned, 
we  changed  cars,  taking  an  omnibus  through  the  city, 
and  passing  immediately  by  its  famous  cathedral,  to  a 
different  station.  In  a  few  moments  we  were  again 
on  the  move,  and  at  6  o'clock  p.  m,,  we  were  in  Paris, 
the  great  emporium  of  fashion,  fully,  fun,  and  frolic. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


Our  firgt  sojourn  in  the  fair  city  of  Paris  was 
limited  to  a  single  week,  whose  seven  days  seemed 
but  so  many  hours,  so  magically  fleeting  was  their 
flight.  We  reserve  our  memories  of  Paris  until 
our  return,  from  wandering  over  the  Continent,  to 
that  queen  of  European  capitals,  when  we  were 
initiated,  during  a  winter's  residence,  into  the  mys- 
tic circle  of  its  mirth  and  merriment.  We  pause 
only  for  a  moment  to  have  a  glimpse  at  the  out-door 
life  during  the  summer  months ;  for  in  that  season  the 
Parisians  proverbially  live  abroad.  Indeed,  we  know 
of  no  word  in  the  French  language,  whose  literal 
meaning  corresponds  with  our  word — home.  They 
say  "  chez  moi  " — that  is,  "  with  me,"  and  wherever 
they  are,  that  we  must  presume  is  home. 

The  "  Chateau  des  Fleurs  "  is  one  of  the  numerous 

pleasure-grounds   of   Paris,   where   the  gay   "cits" 

assemble  of  an  evening  for  dancing,  and  where  the 

foreign  stranger  invariably  repairs,  either  to  enjoy  the 

dance  himself,   or  to   witness   some   of  the  various 

phases  of  Parisian  life.     "Without  stopping  to  defend 

the  propriety  of  our  purpose,  we  candidly  confess  that 

ive  went,  both  to  participate  in  tlie  former,  and  to 

(G5) 


66  Memories  oyer  the  Water. 

observe  the  latter.     Starting  out  from  "  Rue  du  Dau- 
phin," we  strolled  through  the  "  Tuilleries  Gardens," 
across  the  magnificent  "Place  de  la  Concorde,"  under 
the  shadow  of  the  "  Obelisk  of  Luxor,"  and  up  the 
"Champs  Elysees,"  toward  the  " Triumphal  Arch." 
About  midway  up  the  broad  thoroughfare,  we  turn 
into  the  left,  and  observe,  over  an  arched  gateway,  the 
-^ords — "  Chateau  des  Fleurs,"   dancing  in  lambent 
letters   from  the  burning  gas.      Here   admission  is 
charged  for  the  gentlemen  only,  the  ladies  being  per- 
mitted to   pass  unchallenged.     Passing  through  the 
gateway,  we  thought  we  had  suddenly  stepped  into 
fairy  land,  so  novel  and  so  beauteous  was  the  scene 
before  us.     The  gardens  were  beautifully  laid  off,  and 
brilliantly  lighted.     The  air  was  redolent  with  the 
perfume  of  flowers— the  gentle  zephyrs  laden  with 
the  strains  of  dulcet  music,  entrancing  as  ever  flowed 
from  Memnon's  fabled  statue  at  set  of  sun,  or  woke 
euphonious  from  Euterpe's  fingers.     In  the  center  of 
the  gardens  was  erected  a  canopy,  under  which  the 
musicians  sat,  while  before  them   the  gay  dancers 
were   floating    through  tlie   mazy   measures    of  the 
waltz,  treading  as  lightly  to  the  music's  rise  and  fall, 
as  elfin  forms  in  their  mystic  revels.     Unaccustomed 
to   such  enticing  scenes,  we  felt  as  though  we  stood 
upon  enchanted  ground.    The  gay  dancers,  the  strains 
of  alluring  music,  the  festoons  of  light  and  flowers, 
the  fair  daughters  of  France— all  combined  to  win 
away  the  senses,  and  produce  the  impression  that  wo 
were  transported  to  some  other  planet,  perhaps  ram- 


Memoeies  over  the  Water.  07 

bling  through  the  regions  of  King  Charming,  or  lost 
in  the  reveries  of  dream-land.  "What  some  of  the 
sober,  anti-dancing  brethren  of  our  own  good  city 
would  say  to  the  untrameled  license  of  the  "  Chateau 
dcs  Fleurs,"  or  "I3al  Mobile,"  we  surely  wot  not. 
Yet  with  the  French  they  are  recognized  as  an  inno- 
cent recreation.  No  one  is  heard  to  cry  out  against 
them ;  no  condemnation,  no  wish,  that  they  should  be 
abolished.  But  we  hope  the  day  is  yet  distant,  ere 
such  a  state  of  morals  shall  -[.irevail  in  our  own  west- 
ern land;  for  no  lover  of  his  country — no  advocate 
for  "the  pure,  the  noble  and  the  good — could  wish  such 
customs  to  receive  the  national  sanction  of  his  own 
people. 

On  the  30th  of  August,  about  eleven  o'clock,  we 
left  the  handsome  railway  station  at  Paris,  en  route 
for  the  city  of  Geneva.  Soon  after,  we  passed  by  the 
old  palace  of  Fontainebleau,  traversing  a  beautiful 
section  of  country,  whose  lovely  scenery  was  varied 
by  groups  of  peasantry,  in  their  dangling  white  caps, 
blue  blouses  and  wooden  shoes,  forming,  to  the  eye  of 
an  American,  a  tableau  at  once  novel  and  picturesque. 
About  dusk,  passing  through  a  long  tunnel,  we 
dashed  out  into  mountain  scenery,  some  of  which 
was  ti'uly  grand — the  dark  clouds  belting  the  rock- 
ribbed  sides  of  the  towering  hills,  rolling  and  wreath- 
ing like  huge  serpents  around  their  lofty  crests.  But 
night  came  on,  shutting  out  the  view,  and  about  nine 
O'clock  we  reached  "  Chalons-sur-Saone."  Rested 
here  until  morning,  at  the'TEotcl  Chevrcuil,"  and 


68  Memories  over  the  Water. 

about  ten  o'clock,  a.  m.,  the  next  day,  commenced  our 
journey,   by  post,  for  the   shores  of  Lake  Leman. 
Our   company  consisted  of  eight  persons — Mr.  Kerr 
Boyce,  of  South  Carolina,  with  his  son  and  daughter, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Rice,  Fogg,  Taylor,  and  ourself.     We 
therefore   engaged   two    carriages,   each    capable   of 
containing  four.     All   seated,  baggage  aboard,  and 
postillion   mounted,  when,   cracking  his  whip  with 
professional  gusto,  away  we  rattled  over  the  stone- 
paved  streets  of  Chalons,  and  soon  were  beyond  the 
farthest  borders  of  the  town.     The  vine-clad  hills  of 
sunny  France  were  out  in  all  their  summer  beauty, 
and  Nature's  bonny  smile  lent  sweet  contagion  to  our 
hearts.     Our  spirits  were  in  finest  flow,  and  lad  and 
lassie  received  both  merry  bow  and  civil  word  as  we 
passed  them  in  their  daily  labors.     Some  few  looked 
sour,  and  returned  not  the  salutation,  construing  our 
civilities,  perhaps,  as  ill-timed  pleasantry.     But  the 
great  majority  either  smiled  or  courtesied,  and  gener- 
ally accompanied  the  same  with  some  playful  remark. 
The  incessant  cracking  of  the  whip  of  our  merry  pos- 
tillion called  the  attention  of  the  peasant  from  his 
labor,  and  the  cottagers  to  their  windows,  to  stare  at 
what   they   thought    some    spry   sprigs    of   English 
nobility,  who  generally  travel  by  post,  not  realizing 
that  they  looked  upon  those  whose  proud  title  was 
American  Sovereign. 

About  sunset,  we  commenced  our  first  ascent  of 
the  Jura  Mountains,  and  as  lovely  a  view  as  ever 
gladdened  the  captive  fancy,  while  straying  through 


Memories  ovEii  the  Wateu.  C9 

the  Buulight  and  shadows  of  dream-land,  now  greeted 
our  vision,  as  wo  slowdy  wended  our  way  u[)  the 
winding  mountain  road.  Below  us  lay  a  pretty  vil- 
lage, nestling  its  peaceful  head  in  the  valley  at  our 
feet,  and  lo  !  as  we  journey  on  foot  up  the  mountain 
side,  the  sweet  tones  of  the  vesper-bell  tell  the  hour 
of  prayer  in  the  village  below.  We  stop,  and,  linger- 
incr.  list  to  the  soft  music  of  the  sound,  as  it  comes, 
in  sweet  and  mournful  accents,  floating  up  the 
rugged  heights.  Its  mellow  cadence  creeps  caress- 
ingly into  each  mountain  crevice,  and  as  the  silver 
waves  of  its  broken  melody  reach  the  ear,  they  also 
find  their  way  into  the  still  chambers  of  the  heart, 
and  awake  from  its  chords  a  sympathetic  strain. 
Many  a  lonely  cross  we  encounter  on  the  road-side, 
generally  commemorating  some  accident  which  had 
befallen  the  traveler  at  that  particular  spot,  and 
pointing  the  wayfaring  wanderer  to  life's  final  goal 
— his  home  on  high.  On  reaching  the  summit,  we 
found  there,  on  our  left,  a  modest  little  chapel,  sur- 
mounted, as  usual,  by  the  stone  cross,  and  containing 
within  its  glass  doors  an  image  of  the  Virgin  Mary. 
About  nine  o'clock,  we  reached  the  village  of  Clair- 
vaux,  and  there  remained  until  the  next  morning, 
when  we  were  again  bright  and  early  on  our  way. 
The  cool  mountain  breeze  played  upon  our  cheeks, 
braced  our  limbs,  and  sent  a  light  and  buoyant  feeling 
through  our  bodies.  The  bonny  Lizzie  Boyce  and  the 
lovely  Mrs.  Rice,  enhanced  each  pleasure,  and 
smoothed  every  asperity  of  the  journey,  by  the  magic 


70  Memories  over  the  Water. 

of  their  winning  ways  and  pretty  faces.  Our 
postillion,  too,  was  a  merry  lad,  who  cracked  his 
whip  and  blew  his  favorite  horn,  till  echo  answered 
back,  as  our  tough  ponies  jogged  on  over  hill  and  dale, 
and  along  the  mountain  side.  At  intervals  of  about 
every  ten  miles,  we  would  change  horses,  at  the 
*'  poste-aux-chevaux."  Occasionally,  on  our  route, 
the  "  gens  d'arraes  "  would  make  their  appearance, 
and  request  the  privilege  of  seeing  our  passports. 
They  were,  however,  invariably  courteous  and  polite, 
and  performed  their  unpleasant  duties  with  much 
civility,  grace,  and  good-will. 

When  about  twelve  miles  from  Geneva,  we  stopped 
to  change  our  weary  horses,  and  while  quietly  dozing 
in  the  "voiture,"  Miss  B.  tripped  up  to  our  carriage, 
and  wondered  if  we  were  too  lazy  to  get  out  and  look 
at  Mont  Blanc.  That  final  word  acted  like  magic  on 
our  stupid  senses,  and  we  sprang  out  at  one  bound, 
when,  without  the  least  preparation,  that  "  monarch 
of  mountains  "  burst,  in  all  its  glory,  on  our  enrapr 
tured  sight.  The  broad,  fair  valley  of  Geneva,  with 
its  lovely  lake,  lay  quietly  reposing  at  our  feet,  while 
rising  up,  in  majesty  supreme,  from  the  opposite  side, 
Mont  Blanc  towered  up  above  the  sky-kissing  Alpine 
range,  with  the  golden  rays  of  the  west-going  sun 
gilding  his  snow-clad  crest. — "Wood  and  water,  vale 
and  mountain,  lent  their  several  charms,  blending  in 
one  harmonious  whole,  a  picture  of  grandeur  and 
sublimity,  which  nor  pen  nor  pencil  could  portray. 
That  beauteous,  glorious  scene  is  indelibly  fixed — is 


Memokies  over  the  Water.  71 

written  with  a  pen  of  iron  on  the  tablets  of  our  mem- 
ory. Beneath  its  pure  and  elevating  influence,  we 
instinctively  bared  our  brow,  as  though  before  the 
altar  of  the  Most  High,  and  breathed  a  silent  tribute 
of  worship  and  of  prayer  to  Ilim,  who  "holds  the 
earth  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand,"  and  at  whose  com- 
mand '^  the  everlastino;  hills  bow  down  their  heads." 
AVe  gazed  long  and  silently  on  that  scene  of  wondrous 
beauty — the  white  crest  of  the  mountain — the  blue 
wave  of  Leman — the  green  fringe  of  th'e  valley — the 
dark  shade  of  the  forest,  and  turned  regretfully  to  the 
impatient  call  of  the  postillion.  Getting  into  our 
carriages,  we  went  rapidly  down  the  tortuous  road, 
passed  swiftly  through  the  valley,  and  soon  were 
within  the  strong  walls  of  Geneva. 


CIIAPTEH    IX. 


At  Geneva  we  were  much  pleased  to  find  our  Tennes- 
see friends,  Bishop  Otey,  Mrs.  Eakin,  and  Miss  Marie 
L.  Bass.  K  tTiere  is  any  one  thing  which  to  the  sojour- 
ner in  foreign  lands  comes  with  grateful  welcome,  it 
is  the  grasp  of  acquainted  hands — the  greeting  of  fa- 
miliar faces — the  glance  of  friendly  eyes,  which  speak 
at  once  of  kindred  sympathies  and  our  distant  homes. 
The  stranger,  while  treading  the  soil  of  his  pilgrimage, 
goes  on  his  way  unknowing  and  unknown.  He  reads 
at  every  step  that  no  one  cares  for  him — his  weal  or 
his  woe,  his  health  or  his  sickness,  his  ■  joys  or  his 
sorrows  are  alike  unheeded  by  those  who  throng  about 
him.  An  alien  to  their  hearts  and  homes,  we  have 
found  that  if  at  all  observed,  it  is  only  that  he  may 
become  the  victim  of  the  swindler  and  the  rogue.  lie 
is  the  fair  and  legitimate  subject  for  indiscriminate 
plunder,  and  often  the  unwary  traveler,  in  his  perse- 
cution, might  exclaim,  in  the  letUr  but  not  in  the 
spirit  of  scriptural  gratitude — "I  was  a  stranger,  and 
ye  toolc  me  in.^^ 

On  our  arrival  at  Geneva,  we  had  gone  immedi- 
ately to  the  "Hotel  des  Bergues;"  but  finding  that  our 
friends  were  just  across  the  river  at  "Hotel  L'Ecu"  we 

C72; 


Memories  oveu  tiik  Watek.  73 

went  over  forthwith  to  see  them.     Now  it  so  happened 
that  while  we  were  there  some  lady  of  the  party,  wish- 
ing to  purchase  a  shawl,  had  ordered  several  to  be 
sent  up  into  the  private  parlor.     Having  selected  one 
out  of  the  number,  a  certain  young  friend  of  ours, 
taking  a  lancy  to  a  second  one,  determined  on  its  ac- 
quisition to  his  own  wardrobe,  that  he  might  wear  it 
(as  is  frequently  the  case  with  travelers  in   Switzer- 
land) in  the   highland  lashion,  and  thus  be  securely 
protected  against  the  cold,  during  his  transit  over  the 
mountain  passes.     But  he  had  never  learned  the  pe- 
culiar "modus"  of  arranging  it  about  his  person;  and 
so  while  vainly  essaying  to  acquire  the  art,  a  certain 
fair  lady  kindly  volunteered  to  assist  him.     But  alas 
for  poor — "ZbricA-/"  In  winding  the  long  plaid  about 
his  form,  the  wicked  lady,  with  mysterious    art,  did 
likewise  around  his  heart  so  weave  the  meshes  of  the 
mischievous  Boy-god,  that  from  that  same  hour  to  this 
good  day  he  has  been  "a  prisoner  in  bonds."     Should 
these  wayward  lines  ly  chance  meet  her  eye,  she,  will 
doubtless  remember  the  incident,  and  must  in  fairness 
acknowledge  the  justice  of  our  accusation.     We  know 
that  without  "  malice  aforethought"  the  mischief  was 
done,  but  yet  the  result  was  equally  fatal. 

The  situation  of  Geneva  is  beautiful  beyond  descrip- 
tion. Lying  just  at  the  foot  of  the  lake  of  the  same 
name,  it  is  divided  into  three  nnequal  parts  by  the 
blue  waters  of  the  river  llhone,  and  connected  toge- 
ther by  various  handsome  bridges.  On  one  side  rise 
the  dark,  wooded  heights  of  Jura,  and  on  the  other 


74  Memories  over  the  Water. 

tower  up  in  wild  disorder  the  snow-clad  rugged  Alps, 
as  though  here  the  fabled  giants  of  antiquity  had  piled 
"Ossa  on  Pelion"  to  scale  the  high  battlements  of 
heaven.  And  then  in  beautiful  contrast,  beneath  the 
dark  frown  of  the  one  and  the  stern  solemnity  of  the 
other,  sleep  the  happy  waters  of  Lcman,  resting  like 
"the  smile  of  the  Great  Spirit"  in  the  valley  below. 
Indeed  the  eye  which  has  once  dranJc  in  the  beauty 
of  that  scene  can  never  forget  it:  it  will  dwell  as  a  holy 
spell  upon  his  heart  haunting  his  memory  like  the 
voice  of  some  wild  melody. 

Among  the  objects  worthy  of  notice  in  and  about 
the  city  are  Calvin's  tomb — without  inscription  or 
monument ;  the  canopy  in  the  old  cathedral,  from 
under  which  the  impetuous  reformer  promulgated  his 
bold  doctrines ;  the  tomb  of  the  licentious  prelate 
— Prince  Louis  de  Rohan — who  figured  so  conspicu- 
ously with  Madame  Lamotte  in  "the  affair  of  the 
necklace;"  the  house  in  which  Rousseau  was  born; 
Ferney,  where  Voltaire  lived ;  and  the  glaciers  of  Cha- 
mouny,  situated  a  day's  journey  from  Geneva.  This 
"  aristocratico-democratic"  city  contains  twenty-five- 
thousand  inhabitants,  two-thousand  eight-hundred  of 
whom  are  engaged  in  the  manufacture  of  watches,  and 
make  annually  seventy  thousand  time-pieces.  Here 
too  are  manufactured  with  great  skill  mathematical 
and  surgical  instruments,  gold-lace,  silks  and  porcelain. 

Soon  after  our  arrival  in  Geneva  we  made  an  ex- 
cursion up  the  lake  of  Geneva,  along  its  northern 
margin,  to  the  village  of  Coppet,  to  visit  the  Chateau 


Memokies  ovee  the  Water.  75 

of  Mad.  do  Stael.     On  arriving  at  our  destination  wo 
found  the  gateway  guarded  by  a  fierce  dog  of  the  St. 
Bernard  breed,  who  seemed  little  disposed  to  greet  us 
with  that  becoming  hospitality  for  which  his  species 
is  so  celebrated;  with  hair  all  bristled  "like  quills  upon 
the  fretful  porcupine,"  and  snarling  so  as  to  show  an 
unpleasant  array  of  shaqi,  white  teeth,  he  stood  reach- 
ing forward  to  the  utmost  tension  of  his  chain — pre- 
senting such  a  ferocious  aspect  that,  though  securely 
fastened  we  could  hardly  prevail  on  the  ladies  to  set 
foot  within   the  grounds.     Finally    however   we   all 
passed  in,  when  we  were  met  by  a  servant  to  whom 
we  communicated  our  desire  to  see  the  Chateau.     Per- 
mission   was    very  politely   granted,   and  we  were 
shown   through   the  various   apartments,  in   one   of 
which  we  saw  the  portraits  of  Mad.  de  Stael  and  her 
parents — M.  and  Mad.  Necker:     Also  a  marble  bust 
of  the  romantic  soldier  M.  Rocca — Mad.   de  Stael's 
second  husband.     We  were  also  shown  into  the  studio, 
where  the  authoress  of  Corinne  composed  many  of  her 
works,  and  saw  there  the  identical  writing-desk  and 
inkstand  which  she  was   accustomed  to  use.     In   the 
garden   adjoining  the  Chateau,  M.   Necker  and   his 
illustrious  daughter  are  buried,  but  we  were  not  permit- 
ted to  visit  their  tombs  for  fear,  we  suppose,  of  that 
general  spoliation  to  which  all  such  spots  are  subject. 
There  is  something  very  fascinating  in  looking  upon 
the  homes  of  those  authors  whom  we  have  delighted 
to  read,  and  especially  so  when  woman   has  thrown 
the  sacred  spell  of  her  nature  and  her  genius  over  the 


76  Memories  over  the  Water. 

spot.  "We  profess  no  great  admiration  for  literary 
"blues,"  but  it  were  criminal  to  detract  aught  from 
the  meed  of  praise,  which  posterity  has  awarded  to  the 
name  of  Mad.  de  Stael.  Associated  from  her  earliest 
childhood  with  the  "savans"  of  the  age,  her  mind 
natui-ally  became  imbued  with  the  love  of  political  ex- 
citement and  research .  By  her  prominent  position  in 
the  world  of  letters,  she  stands  a  living  assertion  of 
the  disputed  truth,  that  woman  may  think  and  write 
equally  with  proud  man.  To  such  a  reputation  had 
she  attained  that,  it  is  related  that  Napoleon,  when 
about  to  draft  a  new  constitution  for  France,  extended 
a  pressing  invitation  to  her  to  visit  Paris  and  assist 
in  its  delineation,  which  however  she  declined, 

On  our  return  to  Geneva,  Antonio,  the  courier, 
pointed  out  "Campagne  Diodati,"  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  lake,  where  Byron  resided  in  1816,  and 
where  he  composed  his  great  poem  Manfred,  as  also 
the  third  canto  of  Childe  Harold. 


CHAPTER    X. 


At  Geneva,  we  parted  with  our  friend  Taylor,  and 
with  much  regret,  for  we  had  found  him  a  true- 
hearted  fellow,  a  boon  companion,  and  a  certain 
friend.  "We  were  also  loath  to  bid  adieu  to  such  asree- 
able  acquaintances  as  Mr.  Kerr  Boyce  and  family, 
and  especially  to  tlie  fair  daughter  of  the  Palmetto 
state.  But  they  were  limited  to  their  time,  and  so 
proposed  traveling  immediately  to  the  Ilhinc,  thence 
down  the  river,  and  back  to  Paris ;  while  our  route 
led  us  eastward  through  Switzerland,  thence  up  North 
as  far  as  the  Prussian  capital,  and  southward  thence 
to  the  sunny  plains  of  Italy. 

But  before  leaving  Geneva,  we  of  course  made  an 
excursion  up  to  Chamouny,  in  order  to  have  a  nearer 
glimpse  at  old  Mont  Blanc.  A  few  miles  beyond  the 
walls  of  the  city,  we  entered  the  kingdom  of  Sardinia, 
on  whose  boundaries  our  passports  must  needs  be 
examined,  lest  the  trace  of  our  errant  footsteps  might 
here  be  lost.  Sucli  is  the  passport  system  of  Conti- 
nental Europe,  and  so  certain  are  the  clues  by  whicli 
the  traveler  is  attaclied,  that  his  pathway  may  be 
traced,  and,  if  necessary,  his  course  arrested,  with  as 
unerring  precision,  as  though  the  eyes  of  Argus  and 


7S  Memories  over  the  Wateu. 

the  hands  of  Briareus  were  ever  about  liini.  Our 
road  through  Sardinia  led  us  over  a  l)roken  and 
varied  landscape,  whose  alternate  features  were  lofty 
mountain  and  deep  ravine,  fruitful  valley  and  fertile 
plain,  dashing  cascade,  and  mountain  torrent.  Par- 
ticularly beautiful  was  one  fountain  which  we  saw, 
springing  sheer  out  from  the  mountain  height,  and 
falling  in  comet-like  spray  upon  the  rocks  below. 
Reached  the  village  of  St,  Martin  about  noon,  where 
we  changed  our  carriage  for  a  species  of  vehicle, 
used  especially  for  mountain  travel,  and  denominated, 
in  the  lingo  of  the  country,  "  Char-a-bancs."  Just 
beyond  St.  Martin  ripples  a  bold  little  stream,  over 
whose  limpid  waters  is  thrown  a  picturesque  stone 
bridge,  where  each  and  every  traveler  pauses  to  look 
again  on  the  majesty  of  Mont  Blanc ;  for,  from  this 
point,  a  clear  and  unobstructed  view  may  be  had  of 
his  huge  proportions.  Moving  onward,  we  pass  by 
several  immense  glaciers,  which  stretch  themselves 
down  from  the  mountain  top,  like  huge  robes  of  molten 
silver,  rolling  from  the  brawny  shoulders  of  the  hills, 
and  reach  Chamouny  about  sunset. 

Being  in  a  meditative  mood  that  evening,  we 
walked  out  alone,  to  look,  without  interruption,  upon 
the  grandeur  that  encompassed  us  on  every  side.  The 
goddess  of  the  night  had  not  yet  begun  her  course 
through  the  azure  sky,  and  her  expectant  train  were 
looking  eastward  for  her  coming.  Mont  Blanc  is 
beautiful,  as  the  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun  linger 
and  play  upon  its  summit!     It  is  beautiful  when  the 


Memories  oveu  the  Wateu.  79 

gorgeous  Day-king,  from  his  rosy  couch  arising,  first 
greets  its  unsullied  brow,  kissing  away  the  mists  that 
have  gathered  there,  with  his  ardent  rays !  But  glo- 
rious, supremely  beautiful  is  it,  when  the  pale  mother 
of  dreams  hath  gathered  under  her  sable  wings  the 
silent  earth,  and  the  still  spirit  of  night  is  brooding, 
like  the  chost  of  an  extiniijuislicd  world,  above  our 
globe.  "We  rested  in  the  solemn  stillness  of  the  hour, 
under  the  deep  and  somber  shadows  of  the  great 
mountain  before  us,  which,  lifting  its  lofty  head  high 
into  the  blue  vault  of  heaven,  seemed,  with  its  chaste 
brow  of  virgin  snow,  a  meet  abiding-place  for  the 
spirit  of  its  Creator.  Pure,  proud,  and  peerless  it 
stood  !  All  was  silent  as  the  dream  of  death,  as 
nature  calmly  slept  beneath  the  holy  watch  of  the 
stars.  Not  a  single  cloud  was  seen  to  vail  the  sacred 
head  of  earth's  high  altar — not  a  light- winged  zephyr 
stirred  the  slumbering  leaves.  But  elevating  was  the 
grandeur  and  inspiring  the  all-pervading  beauty  of 
the  scene.  The  faint  outline  of  the  white  mountain - 
top  seemed  mingling  with  the  arch  of  heaven,  while 
the  bright  stars  encircled  its  brow  like  a  brilliant 
tiara.     "Well  hatli  the  child  of  poetry  sung — 

"  Mont  Blanc  is  the  monarcli  of  mountains  ; 
They  crowned  him  long  ago— 
On  a  throne  of  rocks,  in  a  robe  of  clouds, 
With  a  diadem  of  snow." 

On  the  following  morning,  we  had  mules  ordered, 
and  started  for  Flegere,  a  lofty  point  on  the  west  side 
of  the  Chamouny  valley.  Our  entire  company  seemed 


80  Memories  over  the  Water. 

most  racri'ily  disposed,  and  woman's  silvery  laugh 
blended  in  sweet  accord  with  tlie  hoarser  mirth  of 
man,  as  our  sagacious  animals  picked  their  way  along 
the  tortuous  mountain-path,  making  progress,  slow, 
but  sure,  up  the  toilsome  ascent.  We  met,  on  our 
journey  up  the  mountain,  lasses  in  great  profusion, 
who,  with  saucers  of  fruit,  and  glasses  of  goat's  milk 
in  their  hands,  accost  the  traveler,  and  invite  him  to 
refreshment.  But  "  excelsior"  is  our  motto,  and  still 
higher  we  urire  on  our  faithful  mules.  Here  we 
encounter  a  clamorous  bevy  of  highland  maids,  and 
there,  under  the  shadow  of  that  tree  to  the  right, 
reclines  a  young  Englishman,  adding  to  the  numerous 
scenes  of  his  sketch-book.  At  last,  we  reach  our 
destination,  but  with  mountain -heights  still  towering 
above  us.  Our  ambition,  however,  is  satisfied,  and 
so  we  decline  further  ascension,  well  content  to  rest 
and  gaze  on  the  glorious  views  around,  about,  below, 
above  us :  at  the  sweet  little  valley,  economically 
cultivated,  glowing  with  golden  grain  and  deep-green 
verdure,  far  down  in  the  chasm  below  ;  on  tlie  num- 
berless peaks  above  and  around  us  ;  and  lastly,  on 
the  sky-kissing  summit  of  the  snow-clad  monarch — 
the  home  and  throne  of  Winter,  where,  robed  in  his 
white  mantle,  he  sits,  looking  down  on  Summer 
kneeling  at  his  feet. 

But  now  we  begin  our  descent,  some  laughing,  and 
some  chatting,  some  walking,  with  highland  stock 
in  hand,  ajid  some  quietly  sitting  on  their  mules, 
wlicn  hark  !  we  stop  and  hold  our  breath,  as  the  first 


Memories  oveu  the  Watek.  81 

roar  of  the  Alpine  avalanche  is  borne,  like  muttering 
thunder  to  our  ears.  The  avalanche  !  the  avalanche ! 
now  leaps  from  tongue  to  tongue,  and  our  hearts  rise 
and  swell  with  the  rushing  sound,  and  only  resume 
their  regular  beating  as  the  murmuring  echo  rolls 
away,  like  "  dying  thunder  on  the  distant  wind." 

Keached  our  hotel  in  safety,  dined  heartily,  mounted 
our  mules,  and  were  oif  for  the  famous  "  Mer  de 
glace,"  situated  high  up  on  the  east  side  of  the  valley. 
Clambered  up  the  rocky  pathway,  now  through  the 
dense  shade  of  the  pine,  and  now  across  the  fearful 
track  of  some  former  avalanche,  that  with  mighty 
sweep  had  made  bare  the  mountain  side.  Reached 
the  little  rustic  hotel,  and  there  leaving  our  mules, 
we  descended  on  foot,  and  clambered  over  this  won- 
derful "  sea  of  ice,"  whose  surface  is  covered  with 
stones  of  immense  weight  and  magnitude,  brought 
down  from  the  heights  above,  and  fearfully  dangerous 
vdth  its  deep  fissures  and  slippery  chasms.  These 
huge  glaciers  glide  gradually  down,  through  their 
deep  beds  in  the  mountain  side,  to  the  valley  below, 
as  the  accumulating  weight  of  snow  above  presses 
onward  the  solid,  glittering  mass,  which,  as  it  reaches 
the  warmer  atmosphere  of  the  valley,  terminates  in  a 
mountain  stream.  Occasionally,  a  part  breaks  away, 
which  then  occasions  the  most  destructive  of  ava- 
lanches. 

But  time  tails  us  to  mention  the  myriad  wonders 
here  displayed:  we  can  only  confide  them  to  the 
keeping  of  memory.      There   is   proverbially  much 


82  Memories  over  the  Water. 

humbug  in  the  stories  of  travelers,  and,  as  a  general 
thing  we  found  it  so.  But  in  Switzerland  there  can 
be  no  disappointment.  Reality  often  far  exceeds  the 
utmost  anticipation,  and  you  only  wonder  why  more 
has  not  been  said  and  sung.  No  cramped  and  disap- 
pointed feeling  can  find  place  in  the  heart  of  the 
traveler  as  he  journeys  amid  the  deep  and  inspiring 
beauties  of  the  Alps.  The  free  spirit  goes  exultingly 
forth,  and  worships  on  its  buoyant  wings,  amid  the 
mighty  tabernacles  of  nature. 


CHAPTER    XI. 


On  our  return  from  Chamouny  wc  again  resumed 
our  route  of  travel,  and  now  proceeded  by  private 
conveyance,  called  in  the  language  of  the  country, 
traveling  by  "  Vetturini."  These  "  Yctturini "  agree, 
for  a  certain  amount,  to  convey  you  from  one  desig- 
nated point  to  another,  and,  if  you  wish  it,  within  a 
certain  time,  furnishing  for  you  both  the  carriage  and 
horses.  This  mode  of  traveling  in  Switzerland,  or 
any  other  country,  which  you  may  wish  to  see 
thoroughly,  is,  by  far,  preferable  to  any  other,  and  is 
generally  adopted  by  those  traveling  in  parties.  So, 
starting  out  from  "Ilotcl  L'Ecu"  with  "four  in 
hand,"  we  rattled  across  "  the  blue  waters  of  the 
arrowy  Rhone,"  and  winding  along  the  northern 
margin  of  lake  Geneva,  we  made  our  way  toward  the 
head  of  Leman's  waters.  The  tinkling  bells  about 
our  horses'  necks  jingled  meiTily,  the  wind  blew 
lustily,  and  the  little  black  dog  of  our  coachman 
barked  with  delight  as  we  drove  on  through  the  land 
of  William  Tell.  The  route  was  a  beautiful  one ;  the 
clear  blue  waters  of  Leman  were  dancing  in  the  breeze 
just  on  our  right,  while  immediately  on  our  left  arose 
the  vine-clad,  and  stone-terraced  hills,  with  soil  well 

(83) 


84  Memokies  over  the  Wateu. 

tilled  and  space  closely  economized,  while  many  a 
pretty  chateau  and  rustic  chapel  peered  through  the 
openings  of  autumn's  golden  umbrage.  At  the  bend 
of  the  lake  we  passed  by  the  beautiful  city  of  Lau- 
sanne, situated  just  on  the  brow  of  the  hill  on  our 
left,  and  famous  for  its  cathedral  and  college.  In  a 
few  hours  afterward  we  reached  the  village  of  Yevey, 
and  procured  apartments  at  the  '"Hotel  des  Trois 
Couronnes,"  most  beautifully  located  immediately  on 
the  beach  of  the  lake,  and  one  of  the  handsomest 
establishments  of  the  kind  to  be  found  in  Europe. 
Pleasure  boats,  of  every  description,  are  moored  hard 
by  the  hotel  door,  and  every  facility  offered  for  excur- 
sions out  upon  the  water.  No  wonder  that  Byron 
and  Gibbon,  Rousseau  and  Yoltaire,  Calvin  and  De 
Stael  should  have  loved  the  fresh,   fair  banks  of 

"  romantic  Leman,"  for  never  yet  hath  our  eye  rested 
on  a  land  so  fertile  in  beauty  and  grandeur  of  scenery ; 

whose  mountains  are  so  majestic,  or  whose  waters  so 
blue  ;  whose  valleys  rejoice  with  their  golden  har- 
vests, and  whose  hills  blush  with  the  purple  grape. 
Far  away  over  the  rolling  billow,  in  our  own  native 
land,  we  were  wont  to  look  on  such  scenes,  so  sacred 
in  the  associations  of  history  and  of  poetry,  as  holy 
beauties,  which  we  must  ever  worship  afar  off.  But 
now  were  we  brought  into  very  contact  with  them .  We 
had  stood  where  Byron  wrote ;  where  Calvin  preached ; 
where  Yoltaire  sneered ;  where  Rousseau  lived  ;  where 
Cuesar  trod,  and  we,  ail-but,  feared  the  spell  of  the 
enchantment  might  thenceforth  be  broken. 


Memories  over  the  Water.  85 

About  eight  o'clock  on  the  following  morning  we 
procured  carriages  from  the  hotel,  and  set  out  on  an 
excursion  toward  "  Chillon's  snow-white  battlements," 
where  the  scene  of  that  touching  story,  "  the  Prisoner 
of  Chillon,"  is  laid.  The  castle  lies  just  in  the  edge 
of  the  water,  and  the  waves  lave  on  every  side  its 
weather-beaten  walls.  How  lovely  was  the  morning ; 
how  cool  the  mountain  air  ;  how  still  the  placid  lake ; 
how  green  the  Alpine  sides  ;  how  white  their  hoary 
brows !  Our  fine  horse  bore  us  rapidly  from  the  hotel 
to  the  castle,  a  distance  of  some  six  or  eight  miles, 
when  we  were  taken  in  charge  by  a  merry  lady,  who 
officiated  as  our  guide  for  the  day.  But  Byron  has 
more  prettily  spoken  of  this  spot  than  we  may  possi- 
bly speak : 

"  Chillon  !  thy  prison  is  a  holy  place. 
And  thy  sad  floor  an  altar,  for  'twas  trod. 
Until  his  very  steps  have  left  a  trace, 
Worn  as  if  the  cold  pavement  were  a  sod. 
By  Bonnivard  !    May  none  those  marks  efface, 
For  they  appeal  from  tyranny  to  God." 

We  saw  those  traces  worn  in  the  living  rock,  by  the 
impatient  footsteps  of  the  luckless  Bonnivard,  who, 
for  six  long  years,  was  here  imprisoned.  We  saw  the 
pillar,  and  the  iron  bolt  by  which  he  was  confined. 
Entered  the  room  in  which  tradition  asserts  that  two 
thousand  Jews  were  put  to  death ;  and  stood  upon  the 
very  rock  upon  which  the  most  of  them  were  smoth- 
ered ;  saw,  too,  the  beam  on  which  some  of  their 
bodies  were  hung,  and  the  window  through  which 
they  were  cast  into  the  lake. 


86  Memokies  over  the  Water. 

"  There  are  seven  pillars  of  Gothic  mold 
In  Chillou's  dungeons,  deep  and  old  ; 
There  are  seven  columns  massy  and  gray  ; 
•Dim  -with  a  dull  imprison'd  ray." 

On  tliese  gray  columns  are  found  tho  names  of 
many  illustrious  men,  wlio  have  visited  Chillon — 
among  them,  that  of  Byron  in  his  own  hand.  Saw- 
through  the  window  the  little  spec  of  an  island,  so 
minutely  described  in  the  poem — 

"  And  then  there  was  a  little  isle 
That  in  my  very  face  did  smile  ! 
A  small  green  isle — it  seemed  no  more — 
Scarce  broader  than  my  dungeon  floor, 
But  in  it  there  were  three  tall  trees, 
And  o'er  it  blew  the  mountain  breeze. 
And  by  it  there  were  waters  flowing, 
And  on  it  there  were  young  flowers  growing, 
Of  gentle  breath  and  hue." 

Leaving  the  dungeons,  we  were  next  conducted 
through  the  various  apartments  of  the  castle.  Saw 
the  sleeping  chamber  of  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  and  the 
curiously  carved  bed-post,  which  was  made  in  the 
fifteenth  century.  Now  the  merry  lady,  our  guide, 
had,  in  the  beginning,  admonished  us  against  taking 
away  any  of  the  mementoes,  that  might  be  lying 
about ;  but  we  must  have  something  to  remind  us  in 
after  days  of  our  visit  to  Chillon,  and  so  while  our 
fair  cicerone  was  busily  engaged  in  relating  some  old 
tradition  in  the  adjoining  room,  we  most  irreverently 
did  borrow  from  the  good  bishop  his  own  knife,  and 
therewith  did  feloniously  cut  away  one  of  the  numer- 
ous little  knobs  of  tlie  carving,  where  many  a  similar 


Memories  over  the  Water.  87 

spoliation  had  been  made.  But  in  our  guilty  hurry 
the  truth  of  the  maxim,  that  "  honesty  is  the  best 
policy,"  was  fully  illustrated,  for  the  knife  suddenly 
slipped,  and  our  hand  striking  hard  against  the  sharp 
carving,  a  couple  of  badly  bruised  fingers,  caused  us, 
for  some  time  after,  to  have  a  very  vivid  recollection 
of  that  same  old  bed-post. 

Dropping  some  small  coin  into  the  hand  of  our 
guide,  we  bade  her  good  morning,  and  returned  to 
Yevey.  Passed  by  Clarens,  "  birthplace  of  deep 
love,"  and  had  the  "  Chateau  Blonay  "  pointed  out 
on  the  right,  said  to  have  been  in  the  possession  of 
the  family,  who  now  occupy  it,  for  upward  of  seven 
hundred  years. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

From  Ycvey  our  route  led  us  northward  toward  the 
Bernese  Alps.  Ascending  the  high  hills  in  the  rear 
of  the  village,  we  had  a  constant  and  successive  change 
of  the  most  witching  scenery,  afforded  by  the  gradual 
ascent  of  the  tortuous  road,  as  it  wound  gracefully  up 
the  mountain  height.  "When  about  three  miles  from 
Balle  we  met  the  "Diligence,"  and  in  it  we  dis- 
covered the  familiar  face  of  our  Nashville  friend,  R. 
W.  McGavock,  who,  in  company  with  young  John- 
stone, of  So.  Ca.,  was  traveling  down  to  Geneva.  He 
likewise  recognized  our  company  and  got  out  to  speak 
with  us.  Unfortunately  he  delayed  too  long,  and  the 
impatient  driver  of  the  "Diligence"  drove  ofl'  and  he 
was  left  on  the  roadside  to  make  his  way  as  best  he 
might  to  Yevey.  We  subsequently  learned  that  he 
arrived  in  safety,  having  footed  it  a  portion  of  the  way, 
when  meeting  with  the  cart  of  a  countryman  he  took 
a  seat  by  the  side  of  the  peasant  and  thus  entered  the 
village.  We  reached  Balle  about  dusk,  and  rested 
for  that  night  at  the  hotel  of  the  "  Cheval  Blanc." 

Early  on  the  following  morning  we  took  a  stroll 
down  to  a  neighboring  village,  whose  name  we  have 

forgotten.     But   entering   the   cliureli-yard,  we   were 

(88) 


Memories  over  the  Water.  89 

witness  to  a  peculiar  custom  of  the  country.  Within 
a  small  recess  of  the  church-wall  was  an  immenso 
quanty  of  human  skulls  and  bones.  The  latter  were 
all  carefully  piled  up,  and  systematically  arranged  the 
one  upon  the  other,  while  capping  this  pyramid  of  in- 
animate humanity  was  exposed  a  ghostly  array  of 
skulls,  grinning  ghastly  smiles  upon  the  intrusive 
traveler. 

Keturned  to  our  hotel,  and  were  soon  journeying  on 
toward  the  city  of  Berne.  The  morning  was  clear 
and  cloudless,  and  the  face  of  nature  had  dawned  its 
sweetest  smile.  But  the  fresh,  fair  countenance  of 
Switzerland  is  in  sad  contrast  with  the  homely  visages 
of  her  children.  The  people  are  generally  courteous 
and  honest,  but  by  no  means  handsome.  The  women 
perform  much  of  the  drudgery  of  the  land,  laboring 
daily  in  the  open  fields  with  their  brothers  and  hus- 
bands. As  we  passed  them  in  groups,  with  their 
broad -brimmed  hats  flapping  upon  their  shoulders 
engaged  in  gathering  in  the  haiTCst,  we  would  greet 
them  with  a  smile  and  a  bow,  which  they  would 
merrily  return,  seeming  both  amused  and  gratified  at 
our  salutations. 

About  noon  we  rode  into  the  fine  old  town  of 
Freiburg,  with  its  ancient  walls  and  time-worn 
cathedral.  Dined  at  the  "  Zahringer  Ilof,"  which 
commands  a  fine  view  of  the  two  celebrated  suspen- 
sion bridges,  overhanging  the  deep  gorge  of  the 
Saarine  river,  and  then  went  to  hear  the  famous  organ 


90  Memories   over  the  "Water. 

in  the  clnirch  of  St.  Nicholas,  said  to  be  the  finest  in 
the  world,  and  whose  mournful  music  has  been  known 
to  draw  tears  from  the  eye  of  the  wayfaring  stranger. 
But  such  was  not  its  effect  upon  us,  though  we  felt 
the  inspiration  of  its  deep-toned  melody  in  all  its 
touching  beauty.  Now  its  soft,  sweet  notes  came 
forth,  like  the  low  murmur  of  love  upon  the  heart  of 
the  young,  and  now  the  lofty  arches  were  echoing 
with  the  full  flood  of  melody,  that  rolled  along  their 
swelling  sides  like  the  loud  chorus  of  angel  and 
archauQ-el.  Anon  some  dulcet  note  would  steal  like 
the  whisper  of  an  angel  upon  our  ears,  and  then  the 
loud  peal  of  the  thunder  and  the  lightning  crash 
would  seem  to  shake  the  old  cathedral  to  its  deepest 
foundations  as  the  representation  of  the  storm  con- 
cluded. 

On  our  return  to  the  hotel,  we  saw  the  old  lime- 
tree,  twenty  feet  in  circumference,  which,  according  to 
the  tradition  of  the  town,  was  thus  planted  on  the 
day  of  the  battle  of  Morat,  in  1476.  A  Freibour- 
geois  youth,  wounded  in  the  fierce  engagement,  ran 
with  a  lime-branch  in  his  hand  from  the  scene  of 
conflict  to  his  native  city,  to  communicate  the  glad 
tidings  of  triumph.  He  reached  the  home  of  his 
fathers,  faint  and  bleeding,  and  shouting  with  his  last 
feeble  breath,  the  cry  of  victory,  he  fell  into  the  arms 
of  death.  The  branch  that  he  bore  in  his  hand  was 
planted  on  the  spot,  and  grew  into  an  immense  tree. 
Centuries    have  showered  their  summers   and  their 


Memories  over  the  Water.  91 

snows  upon  its  venerable  boughs,  and  yet  it  still 
stands,  to  commemorate  the  name  and  virtues  of  that 
noble  youth.     Such,  at  least,  is  the  tradition, 

Freiburg  is  one  of  the  strongholds  of  the  Romish 
priesthood,  and  there  we  first  saw  the  Capuchin  friar, 
in  all  his  coarse  attire — rough,  brown  gown,  long 
and  flowing  beard,  closely  shaved  head,  and  sandals 
without  stockings.  There  is  something  which  com- 
mands our  admiration  in  the  self-denial  of  the  Chris- 
tian, and  much  to  respect  in  the  exercise  of  his  true 
penitence  and  unaffected  contrition ;  but  there  is 
nothing  commendable  in  the  outward  show  of  pen- 
ance, nor  yet  anything  praiseworthy  in  such  a  dis- 
regard for  the  fashions  of  earth,  as  to  dress  in  filth 
and  rags,  as  we  have  seen  many  of  the  Capuchin 
order. 

About  three  o'clock,  p.  m.,  we  were  again  "en 
route,"  crossing  over  the  famous  suspension -bridge, 
said  to  be  the  longest,  of  a  single  sweep,  in  the  world. 
Its  length  is  estimated  at  941  feet,  its  elevation  above 
the  water  ISO  feet,  and  its  width  22  feet  and  11 
inches.  The  scenery  still  continued  beautiful,  here  a 
smiling  valley,  there  a  green-clad  hill,  and  now  and 
then  we  could  descry  the  sky-piercing  peaks  of  the 
Bernese  range  peering  over  the  line  of  lofty  hills  on 
our  right.  About  sundown,  we  entered  Berne  by  the 
gate  of  Morat,  which  is  flanked  on  each  side  by  the 
image  of  an  enormous  bear.  Bruin  seems  to  be  the 
presiding  divinity  of  the  good  city  of  Berne ;  for  he 


92  Memories  oyer  the  Water. 

has  a  fiit  office,  and  lives  at  the  public  expense.  The 
citizens  take  great  pride  in  their  pet,  and  willingly 
contribute  to  his  generous  sustenance.  We  put  up  at 
"  L'llotel  du  Faucon,"  and  thence  strolled  down  to  the 
Terrace,  which,  supported  by  a  massive  wall  of  heavy 
masonry,  rises  188  feet  above  the  foaming  Aar, 
This  elevation  is  planted  in  trees,  and  serves  as  a 
public  promenade  for  the  citizens  ;  and  from  here  a 
beautiful  view  of  the  Bernese  Alps  is  presented  —  six 
white  peaks,  rising  in  regular  succession,  like  so 
many  tall  giants,  clad  with  silver  helmets,  and  stand- 
ing out  in  bold  relief  against  the  blue  sky  beyond. 
Some  of  the  peculiarities  of  Berne  are  its  curious 
old  town-clock,  its  gloomy  arcades,  its  bear-decked 
fountains,  and  the  Swiss  soldier — not  sword  in  hand, 
but  pipe  in  mouth. 

Made  an  early  start  on  the  following  morning,  and 
reached  the  village  of  Thun  about  ten  a.  m.  Had  all 
variety  of  scenery,  and  were  especially  pleased  with 
the  appearance  of  the  queer  old  Swiss  cottages,  their 
roofs  covered  with  stones  to  prevent  their  being  blown 
away,  and  witli  pious  and  patriotic  sentiments  written 
over  their  doorways — "bound  like  frontlets  on  their 
brows."  We  went  over  the  old  feudal  castle  of  Thun, 
said  to  be  seven  hundred  years  old.  Stood  in  the 
churchyard  terrace,  which  Byron  speaks  of  in  his 
letters  as  affording  some  of  the  finest  views  in  the 
world.  Our  horses  being  fed  and  refreshed,  we  moved 
on  toward  Interlaken,  along  the  southern  margin  of 


Memokip:s  ovia:  the  Watku.  93 

lakcThun.  The  old  hills  loukcd  dreamily  down  upon 
its  classic  waters,  soothed,  as  it  were,  into  a  quiet  sleep, 
and  slumbering  away  in  the  soft  and  hazy  atmos- 
phere. Passed  through  the  dilapidated  village  of 
Unterseen,  at  the  head  of  the  lake,  and  entered  Inter- 
laken,  a  most  beautiful  summer  resort,  and  especially 
patronized  by  the  wealthy  class  of  the  Traveling 
English. 


CIIAPTEU    XIII. 


Interlaken  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  villages  in 
the  world.  Located  just  between  the  waters  of  Lake 
Thun  and  Lake  Brienz — and  hence  its  name,  Inter- 
laken— it  commands  every  variety  of  scenery,  from 
the  virgin  snows  of  the  Jung-Fran  to  the  placid 
waters  of  Thun;  from  the  lofty  brow  of  the  "  Silver 
Horn"  to  the  still  bosom  of  Brienz;  from  the  dense 
forest  of  the  mountain  to  the  wild  flower  of  the  valley. 
Being  sustained  almost  exclusively  by  the  patronage 
of  the  wealthy  and  the  cultivated,  each  and  every 
building  within  its  corporate  limits  is  handsomely 
ornamented  both  in  style  of  architecture,  and  in  the 
decorations  of  shrubs  and  flowers.  An  atmosphere 
of  health  and  purity  seemed  to  pervade  the  place, 
for  we  found  within  its  fair  borders  neither  the  care- 
worn visage  of  poverty,  nor  the  bloated  countenance 
of  vice. 

Immediately  after  our  arrival  we  procured  a  couple 

of  light  carriages,  and  struck  out  westward  toward 

Lauterbrunnen,  passing  by  the  old  and  dilapidated 

Castle  of  Unspunnen,  the  reputed  residence  of  Byron's 

Manfred.     The  walls  are  all  crumbling  away  under 

the  burden  of  their  years,  and  tlie  green  ivy  grows 
(94) 


Memokies  over  the  "Water.  95 

lovingly  over  their  moldering  ruins,  seeking  as  it 
were  to  conceal  the  desolation  of  decay.  Wc  now 
enter  the  wild  and  broken  gorge  of  the  Lutschine 
torrent,  presenting  to  the  eye  of  the  traveler  a  most 
savage  and  sublime  appearance,  the  craggy  cliffs 
rising  abruptly  on  either  hand  to  kiss  the  fleecy 
clouds.  In  many  places  we  found  the  strata  of  rocks 
of  curious  formation,  being  curved  and  contorted, 
reminding  one  of  that  pristine  state  which  geologists 
tell  about,  when  earth  was  young,  and  the  liquid 
mass  of  primeval  matter  bubbled  up  from  the  boiling 
caldron  of  chaotic  nature.  Saw  on  the  roadside 
"  the  brother's  stone,"  marking  the  spot  where  one 
brother  fell  by  the  hand  of  the  other.  The  legend 
tells  how  the  fate  of  the  first  Cain  pursued  the 
wretched  fratricide,  and  wandering  off  among  the 
mountains  he  perished  with  the  wild  beasts  of  the 
field. 

About  two  miles  from  the  gateway  of  the  Lutschine 
gorge,  the  chasm  diverges,  the  right  hand  leading 
up  to  Lauterbrunncn,  and  the  left  to  Grindelwald. 
Lauterbrunnen  lies  two  thousand  four  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  above  sea-level,  and  yet  is  so  sunk  within 
the  sides  of  the  mountain-chasm  that  in  summer  the 
sun  is  never  visible  before  seven  o'clock,  and  in  the 
winter  not  before  noon.  From  the  brows  of  the  over- 
hanging clifls,  dangle  no  less  than  thirty  cascades, 
falling  like  threads  of  silver  into  the  valley  below. 
They  all,  however,  "  hide  their  diminished  heads" 
before  the  exquisite  beauty  of  the  Staubbach,  one  of 


96  Memories  over  the  Water. 

the  most  wonderful  waterfalls  in  Europe,  measuring 
eight  hundred  feet  in  height.  The  volume  of  water  is 
not  great,  and  as  it  pours  over  the  wave-worn  cliff 
down  into  the  dark  ravine,  most  of  it,  ere  it  reaches 
the  bottom,  is  converted  into  gentle  spray,  and  looks, 
with  the  sun-light  streaming  the  colors  of  the  rainbow 
among  the  crystal  drops,  like  some  angel  of  light  and 
beauty  weeping  down  into  the  gloom  of  Hades. 
Byron  thus  mentions  this  cascade  in  his  Manfred — 

•'  The  sunbow's  rays  still  arch 
The  torrent  with  the  many  hues  of  heaven, 
And  roll  the  sheeted  silver's  waving  column 
O'er  crags  headlong  perpendicular; 
And  fling  its  line  of  foaming  light  along, 
And  to  and  fro,  like  the  pale  courser's  tail. 
The  giant  steeds  to  be  bestrode  by  death. 
As  told  in  the  Apocalypse." 

The  traveler  from  Interlaken  to  Lauterbruunen 
meets  with  beggars  innumerable ;  but  there  is  one 
feature  about  their  profession  which  not  only  robs  the 
calling  of  one-half  its  objections,  but  will  fully  com- 
pensate the  passenger  for  the  exercise  of  his  charity. 
The  mountain  girls,  sometimes  with  instruments  of 
music,  keep  pace  with  the  "char-a-banc,"  warbling 
their  wild  Swiss  melodies,  which  find  an  echo  for 
every  note  along  the  mountain  side.  Tliis  they  do 
not  without  the  expectation  of  reward  ;  and  as  to  the 
flower  girl  of  Florence,  so  to  the  minstrel  girl  of  Swit- 
zerland you  must  give,  if  but  for  the  poetry  of  their 
vocation. 


Memouies  over  the  Water.  97 

On  the  following  day  we  were  up  bright  and  early, 
and  paid  a  second  visit  to  the  Staubbach.  The  morn 
was  all  roseate  with  beauty  and  laughing  with  joy, 
while  the  mountain  air  seemed  as  permeant  ambrosia 
to  our  system,  lleturning  to  the  hotel,  escorted  by  a 
whole  bevy  of  tow-headed  damsels,  we  dispatched  our 
breakfast,  and  made  preparations  for  returning  to 
Interlaken.  Mrs.  Eakin,  little  Willie,  and  Antouia 
went  immediately  back  by  carriage,  while  the  remain- 
der of  our  party  purposed  crossing  the  Wengern  Alp 
on  horseback.  As  we  left  the  hotel,  Henry  and  our- 
self  being  in  the  rear  of  the  rest,  we  started  off  in  a 

CD  7 

great  hurry,  and  in  endeavoring  to  quicken  the  pace 
of  our  lazy  animal  by  the  application  of  Solomon's 
principle,  we  broke  a  pretty  little  cane  that  we  had 
brought  all  the  way  from  Mont  Blanc  as  a  memento. 
As  for  friend  Fogg,  he  got  on  pretty  well,  until  he 
reached  a  stable  on  the  roadside,  where  his  obstinate 
steed  called  a  determined  halt,  and  neither  kicks  nor 
coaxing  would  induce  him  to  proceed.  The  entire 
vocabulary  of  endearing  epithets  was  exhausted, 
switches  innumerable  worn  out,  and  even  the  force  of 
heels  well  nigh  spent,  yet  with  head  tucked  down 
and  cars  thrown  back  the  ungracious  beast  stood 
immovable.  How  the  result  would  have  been  we 
cannot  tell,  had  not  one  of  the  guides,  who  had  loit- 
ered behind,  now  come  up,  and  led  the  stubborn  old 
fellow  along  beyond  view  of  the  tempting  stable. 
Spurring  across  the  ''Lutschine  Blanc,"  nearly  oppo- 
site the  Staubbach,  we  commenced  the  steep  and  toil- 
8 


98  Memokies   ovek  the  Watek. 

some  ascent  of  the  Wengern  Alp.  Unlike  the  hardy 
mnle,  our  horses  must,  every  now  and  then,  be  per- 
mitted a  breathing  spell.  On  reaching  the  first  bench 
of  the  mountain  we  bore  off  to  the  right,  and  had  a 
view  of  Interlaken,  lying  far  down  in  the  valley  of  the 
Thun.  Turning  now  up  to  the  left,  we  crossed  over 
a  boggy  meadow  on  the  mountain  side,  and  soon  after 
reached  the  rustic  hotel,  immediately  facing  the  Jung- 
Frau.  The  day  was  "  beautiful  as  a  dream,"  and  in 
every  respect  favorable  for  the  falling  of  the  ava- 
lanche. We  took  our  seats  on  the  rough  wooden 
bench,  in  front  of  the  "  Half-way  House,"  and  list- 
ened to  the  faint,  musical  tinkling  of  the  cow-bells,  as 
their  patient  bearers  fed  far  down  in  the  valley.  All 
else  is  silent,  when  suddenly  we  are  startled  by  the 
roar  of  the  avalanche,  and  casting  our  eyes  over  to 
the  snow-clad  sides  of  the  mountains  opposite,  we 
see  it  rushing  down,  producing  a  sound  that  exactly 
resembles  the  distant  murmuring  of  deep-toned  thun- 
der. The  grandeur  of  the  avalanche,  however,  as  it 
is  witnessed  on  a  warm  day  among  the  Alps,  consists 
more  in  the  sound  than  in  the  sight,  so  much  so  that 
you  can  hardly  realize  that  those  echoing  thunders 
arise  from  yon  small  cascade  of  snow,  as  it  steals  on  its 
meandering  course  down  to  the  valley.  But  the  trav- 
eler must  bear  in  mind  that  he  stands  at  a  distance, 
and  that  those  apparently  insignificant  streams  of 
snow  are  composed  of  whole  tons  of  ice — and  woe  to 
"the  hamlet  of  the  harmless  villager"  that  lies  in  the 
sweep  of  their  pathway.     We  heard  and  saw  no  less 


Memories  over  the  Water.  99 

than  hair  a  dozen  avalanches  in  the  course  of  an  hour, 
and  then  resumed  our  passage  over  the  mountain. 
About  two  miles  further  on  we  attained  the  summit  of 
the  pass,  where  is  situated  a  clean,  white  "  chalet,"  and 
from  this  point  we  had  a  most  beautiful  view  of  Grin- 
del  wald,  loosely  sprinkled  along  the  well-tilled  valley. 
This  "•chalet"  is  six  thousand  two  hundred  and  eighty 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.     "We  now  pass  from 
under  the   smile  of  the  "Young  Bride,"  and  com- 
mence our  descent,  which  is  steep  and  dangerous  to 
ride.     "We  passed    in   sight    of    many   trees,   which 
seemed  to  have  been  shattered   cither  by  storm  or 
avalanche.      Of    this    spot    Byron    thus    speaks  — 
"  Whole   woods    of    withered    pines,    all   withered ; 
trunks  stripped  and  barkless  ;  branches  lifeless  ;  done 
by  a  single  winter ;  their  appearance  reminded  me  of 
myself  and  family."     As  we  descended  still  further, 
our  approach  was  hailed,  as  usual,  by  the  sound  of 
music ;    the  little  boys    running   ahead   of   us    and 
blowing  on  their  Alpine  horns  to  produce  the  echo, 
while  a  little  farther  down  sat  an  old  woman,  in  front 
of  her  cottage,  picking  away  on   a  species  of  the 
mandelin,  and  making  good  music. 

Found  our  carriage  in  waitinsi:  at  the  "  Hotel  des 
Ours,"  and  getting  in  we  started  down  the  vallev  of 
the  "  Lutschine  Noir,"  toward  Interlaken.  Occasion- 
ally we  would  encounter  an  old  woman  with  an 
immense  goitre,  standing  on  the  roadside,  and  with 
extended  hand  soliciting  charity.  Iler  deformity  she 
^eeps  carefully  and  conspicuously  exposed,  which  she 


100  Memories  over  the  "Water. 

has  learned  \\i\l  excite  the  sympathy  of  the  traveler, 
and  then  extract  the  gift.  The  goitre  is  very  preva- 
lent among  the  Swiss,  many  having  the  tumor  as 
large  and  sometimes  even  larger  than  the  head.  But 
this  unkindness  of  dame  Nature  is  frequently  found 
to  be  a  prolific  source  of  revenue,  for  placing  himself 
in  a  prominent  position  on  the  roadside,  he  who  can 
parade  the  most  unsightly  spectacle  will,  in  proportion 
to  the  extent  of  his  deformity,  realize  a  pecuniary 
profit. 


CHAPTER    XIV 


On  resuming  our  journey  from  Intcrlaken,  tlie 
majority  of  our  company  went  on  to  Lucerne,  by  the 
carriage,  while  we  and  the  Bishop  took  the  following 
route :  Leaving  our  baggage  to  be  carried  around  by 
the  coachman,  we  started  by  early  sunrise  from  the 
hotel,  and  taking  a  row-boat  at  the  foot  of  Lake 
Brienz,  we  went  gliding  over  its  peaceful  waters,  to 
the  village  of  the  same  name,  situated  near  the  east- 
ern extremity  of  the  lake.  We  arrived  about  nine 
o'clock,  A.  M.,  and,  having  procured  a  guide  and  a 
couple  of  Alpine  stocks,  we  set  out  afoot  to  make  the 
pass  of  the  Brunig.  Brienz  we  found  to  be  an  old 
and  shattered  village,  with  nothing  very  remarkable 
about  it,  excepting,  perhaps,  the  great  quantity  of 
fancy  woodwork  that  is  here  manufactured.  The 
Swiss  peasants,  during  thd  long  hours  of  winter, 
when  they  are  confined  within  doors,  employ  their 
leisure  time  in  cutting  out  all  manner  of  curious 
devices  in  wood,  which  find  a  ready  sale,  as  memen- 
toes, among  the  travelers  through  that  region  of  coun- 
try. We  did  not  leave  the  village  before  the  Bishop 
had  made  the  purchase  of  several  articles ;  and  we, 

forsooth,  had  bought  a  devil.    Sulphur  and  brimstone 

f  101  ) 


102  Memories  ovkij  thk  Wa'iek. 

are  generally  associated  with  our  ideas  of  his  Satanic 
majesty,  and  so  the  ingenious  architect  had  strapped 
a  match-box  to  the  back  of  Sir  Lucifer,  reckoning  it 
an  applicable  ornament.  — "  Get  thee  behind  me, 
Satan,"  said  we,  as  we  rammed  the  gentleman  of  the 
cloven  foot  into  our  coat-pocket,  and  followed  on  after 
our  reverend  companion.  With  a  devil  behind,  and 
a  bishop  before  us,  we  congi*atulated  ourself  upon  the 
comical  variety  of  our  fellowship,  and  trudged  onward 
up  the  valley,  along  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  In 
about  one  hour  we  reached  the  ]:>athway  that  led  up- 
ward toward  the  Brunig,  and  here  we  began  our 
ascent.  Our  guide  was  a  merry  fellow,  and  though 
he  spoke  not  a  word  of  English  or  of  French,  still  he 
seemed  determined  to  hold  converse  with  us  on  our 
upward  tramp.  By  various  signs  and  gesticulations, 
we  strove  to  instruct  him  in  our  own  vernacular, 
while  he  readily  sought  to  enlighten  us  in  the  jaw- 
breaking  German.  Frequently  we  would  pause,  to 
look  down  on  the  valley,  and  occasionally  to  send  a 
stone  leaping  and  bounding  away  over  all  opposition, 
to  the  base  of  the  mountain.  The  cool  and  refreshing 
breezes  of  the  mountain  braced  up  our  limbs,  sending 
an  elastic  strength  and  a  new  health  dancing  through 
every  vein,  as  we  strode  sturdily  onward  and  upward. 
On  reaching  the  summit,  we  found  there  the  usual 
refreshment-room,  where  we  rested  over  a  bottle  of 
wine.  On  again  taking  up  our  line  of  march,  we, 
(the  singular  number,  of  course,)  found  that  the 
generous  beverage  had  so  mello^yed  our  spirit-Sj  and 


Memories  over  the  Water.  103 

enlivened  our  tongue,  that  we  made  merry  with 
Bishop,  guide,  and  devil,  and  on  any  subject  that 
might  come  uppermost  in  our  mind.  Soon  after 
leaving  the  rustic  retreat,  we  encountered  a  second 
party,  who  were  crossing  over  to  Brienz.  They  were  on 
the  well-beaten  bridle-path,  and  we  on  the  smooth 
footpath,  being  distant  from  each  other  about  one 
hundred  yards.  But  a  salute  must  be  given,  and  so 
lifting  our  hats  upon  our  Alpine  stocks,  and  waving 
them  toward  the  advancing  party,  we  raised  a  genuine 
Yankee  hurrah.  The  compliment  was  understood  and 
appreciated;  for,  imitating  the  example,  they  too, 
raised  their  hats  in  return,  the  ladies  waving  their 
white  "  mouchoirs,"  while  a  shout  of  hearty  good-will 
echoed  among  the  mountain-tops.  Thus  we  passed, 
each  party  doubtless  feeling  all  the  better  for  the  warm 
and  friendly  greeting.  Presently  we  reached  the  spot 
where  stands  an  old  chapel,  and  from  which  we 
looked  down  on  the  village  of  Lungerne.  From  this 
point  we  began  our  descent,  the  mountain-path  being 
steep  and  precipitous,  hewn  out  into  steps,  and  over- 
hanging a  deep  chasm.  The  clustering  branches 
overarched  the  pathway,  excluding  every  ray  of  sun, 
and  shrouding  it  in  a  mantle  of  deepest  shade,  ren- 
dering the  route  peculiarly  romantic  and  inspiring. 
On  rcachino;  Lunirerne,  we  were  well  willing  to  rest 
our  wearied  limbs  in  a  small  carriage,  which  bore  us 
along  the  southern  shores  of  Lakes  Lungerne  and 
Sarnen,  to  the  village  of  Alpnach.  Passed  by  several 
huge  bowlders  along  the  way,  and  by  the  lonely  stone 


lOi  Memories  ovek  the  Water. 

cross  and  tlie  miniature  chapel  that  stood  by  tlie  road- 
side, we  knew  that  we  had  again  entered  a  Koman 
Catholic  canton.  One  little  white  cross  we  recollect, 
which  stood  solitary  and  alone,  far  up  upon  the  high- 
est summit  of  a  bare  and  isolated  peak,  scarcely 
visible  from  the  road,  but  pointing,  with  extended 
arms,  high  into  the  pure  heavens  above.  "We  can  see 
it  now,  as  it  glimmered,  like  a  dim  spec,  on  the  lofty 
brow  of  the  naked  mountain,  and  we  even  remember 
the  face  of  the  Swiss  girl,  who,  as  we  were  gazing  on 
the  distant  cross,  came  tripping  out  from  her 
mother's  cottage,  and  offered  her  basket  of  mellow 
fruit. 

On  reaching  Alpnach  we  again  took  the  row-boat, 
and  speeding  over  the  "  Alpnach  Bay,"  we  rounded 
the  point  on  our  left,  and  glided  out  into  the  beautiful 
"  Lake  of  the  Four  Cantons."  The  golden  sun  was 
vailing  his  face  behind  a  bank  of  clouds,  that  girdled 
the  craggy  head  of  Old  Pilatus,  while  the  atmosphere 
was  of  that  soft  and  sweet  description,  which,  in  the 
gentle  twilight  of  autumn,  makes  the  heart  grow 
fond  and  pensive.  The  lake  was  calm  as  Beauty's 
sleep,  extending  in  all  directions,  and  its  smooth  sur- 
face of  the  deepest  green.  Still  bearing  to  the  right, 
we  rouR'lod  several  other  points,  just  off  one  of  which, 
stood  out,  like  a  sulky  schoolboy,  a  small  rocky 
island,  on  whose  top  was  erected  a  little  chapel  to  the 
Virgin  Mary.  On  our  right  stood  up  the  famous 
Rigi,  to  whose  summit  it  is  required  that  every  trav- 
eler should  ascend.     It  was  now  growing  dark,  and, 


Memories  over  the  Water.  105 

as  we  glided  on,  wc  would  now  and  then  encounter 
some  other  boat,  and  rowed  by  women^  who  looked, 
in  the  dim  twilight,  like  witches  of  the  water,  as  they 
stood  bolt  upright  at  the  helm,  impelling  their  IVail, 
plank  boats.  Our  senses  were  lulled  into  a  dreamy, 
thoughtful  mood,  and  we  could  almost  imagine  the 
spectral  boat,  as  it  glided  silently  by,  to  be  guided  by 
the  hand  of  some  Sibyl  of  old,  as  she  sought  her 
lonely  cave  by  the  shore  of  the  lake — some  Demo- 
phile,  perhaps,  who  had  been  wandering  forth  to 
gather  the  leaves  on  which  to  inscribe  her  prophetic 
verses. 

But  rounding  now  our  final  point,  the  city  of  Lu- 
cerne came  in  view,  with  its  tower-studded  walls,  and 
tall,  tapering  spires.  In  a  few  moments  more,  we 
landed  at  the  door  of  our  hotel,  the  "  Schweizerhof," 
an  elejrant  and  handsome  structure,  situated  imme- 
diately  on  the  lake,  and  looking  out  over  its  still, 
calm  waters. 

On  the  following  morning,  it  being  Sunday,  we 
attended  divine  service  at  the  English  chapel.  These 
Protestant  churches  are  quite  numerous  throughout 
the  Catholic  countries  of  Europe,  and  we  have  fre- 
quently found  an  English  chapel  attached  to  the  first- 
class  hotels,  in  order  to  draw  the  English  patronage. 
After  service,  we  visited  the  long,  queer,  old  painting- 
decked  bridges,  the  two  Cathedrals,  and  "  Thorwals- 
den's  Lion."  Tliis  celebrated  piece  of  sculpture  is  cut 
and  chiseled  out  from  the  solid  rock,  which  rises  in 

a  perpendicular  blurt'  to  a  considerable  height,  and  in 
9 


106  Memories  over  the  Water. 

a  recess,  hewn  out  of  the  bkiff,  reclines  the  lordly 
lion,  a  broken  spear  piercing  his  side.  Immediately 
at  the  foot  of  the  statue,  is  a  pool  of  water,  which 
adds  to  the  effect  of  the  scene.  The  figure  of  the 
wounded  lion  is  colossal,  and  his  mournful  face  is  full 
of  expressive  sorrow.  The  first  view  that  you  catch 
through  the  foliage  of  the  trees,  as  you  approach  the 
spot,  is  the  best. 


CHAPTER    XV 


It  was  our  purpose,  on  the  morning  after  reaching 
Lucerne,  to  make  the  ascent  of  the  Rigi ;  but  the 
summit  being  vailed  in  clouds,  and  the  entire  pano- 
rama thus  shut  out  from  view,  our  labor  would  have 
been  lost.  Even  old  Mont  Pilatus,  whose  rough  head 
serves  as  a  weather-index  to  the  good  people  of 
Lucerne,  had  donned  his  cloudy  cap,  thus  promising 
a  rain.  Concernins;  this  mountain  there  is  an  ancient 
tradition,  that  Pontius  Pilate,  after  consenting  to  the 
death  of  our  Saviour,  was  so  haunted  by  the  dark- 
winged  spirit  of  remorse,  that  he  wandered  over  the 
face  of  the  earth,  a  fugitive  from  the  scourges  of  con- 
science, and  finding  life  at  last  an  intolerable  burden, 
he  threw  himself  headlong  from  the  heights  of  this 
craggy  peak,  and  hence  came  the  name,  Mont  Pilatus. 

About  eight  o'clock  a.  m.,  we  left  the  city  of 
Lucerne,  and  wound  along  the  northern  margin  of 
Coosnacht  Bay,  passing  by  the  spot  where  the  mem- 
orable "  slide  of  the  Rossberg"  took  place,  devastating 
four  several  villages,  and  burying  more  than  four 
hundred  human  beings  beneath  its  destructive  march. 
We  reached  Zui:!:^:  about  noon,  and  here  launched. 

Visited  the  old  cathedral,  with  its  long  flight  of  stone 

(107) 


108  Memories  over  the  Water. 

steps,  and  strolled  out  upon  the  pier  that  reaches  out 
into  the  lake.  About  two  o'clock  we  were  again  on 
the  move,  and  all  in  a  feverish  excitement  about  the 
execution  of  Lopez  and  his  fifty  comrades  by  the 
Cuban  authorities,  which  intelligence  we  had  acci- 
dentally learned  from  an  Amei'ican  gentleman,  wliom 
we  encountered  at  Zugg,  and  who  himself  was  furious 
with  indignation. 

On  the  road  from  Lucerne  to  Arth,  at  the  foot  of 
the  Eossberg,  is  the  Chapel  of  William  Tell,  erected 
to  commemorate  the  celebrated  incidents  of  Gessler's 
death.  In  the  chapel  there  is  a  painting,  which 
represents  the  lordly  tyrant  plierced  by  the  avenging 
shaft  of  the  immortal  Tell,  and  falling  headlong  from 
his  horse.  He  is  surrounded  by  his  warlike,  but  now 
woe-stricken  retinue,  who  look  in  vain  for  the  secret 
hand  that  guided  the  death-dealing  arrow.  The  very 
spot  is  pointed  out  where  the  champion  of  liberty  lay 
concealed,  and  also  the  identical  place  w^here  Gessler 
fell,  Near  the  latter  spot  we  plucked  a  green  leaf  as 
a  memento,  and  again  taking  our  scats  we  resumed 
our  journey.  Late  in  the  afternoon  w^e  came  suddenly 
on  a  view  of  the  lake  and  city  of  Zurich,  the  hills 
rising  gradually  up  from  the  edge  of  the  water,  like 
the  tiers  of  some  vast  amphitheater.  The  borders  of 
the  lake  were  all  beautifully  sprinkled  wath  their 
pretty  white  chateaus,  presenting  to  the  eye  a  very 
pleasant  aspect.  Lucerne  contains  about  nine  thou- 
sand inhabitants,  and  Zurich  about  fifteen  thousand. 
The  latter  is  noted  for  its  silk  manufactures,  and  as 


Memories  over  the  Water.  109 

Lcin;--  one  of  the  lirst  cities  where  the  Reformation 
found  a  foothold,  Tlie  appearance  of  the  place  indi- 
cates a  present  prosperous  condition,  as  well  as  a 
recent  advancement  in  gi'owth  of  manufactures  and 
commerce.  The  respective  situations  of  Geneva, 
Lucerne  and  Zurich  are  strikingly  similar.  For  in- 
stance, Geneva  is  located  at  the  foot  of  Lake  Geneva, 
and  divided  by  the  river  Ilhone  ;  Lucerne  at  the  foot 
of  lake  Lucerne,  and  divided  by  the  river  Eeuss ; 
Zurich  at  the  foot  of  lake  Zurich,  and  di\ddcd  by  the 
river  Limmat. 

We  rested  but  one  night  at  Zurich,  and  started, 
about  our  usual  time,  on  the  following  morning  for 
the  famous  "Fall  of  the  PJiine."  Taking  down  the 
northern  bank  of  the  rapid  Limmat  we  made  our  way 
over  a  capital  road  toward  the  town  of  Schaffhausen. 
All  along  the  route,  the  agrarian  countrymen  were 
engaged  in  breaking  up  their  grounds  with  heavy, 
cumbrous  ploughs,  with  broad  coulters,  and  running 
on  wheels.  As  a  remarkable  fact,  these  plows  were 
drawn  by  milch  cows.  We  passed  on  through  seve- 
ral old  villages,  and  when  about  twenty  miles  from 
Zurich  we  crossed  over  the  Rhine,  by  a  covered 
wooden  bridge,  into  the  village  of  Eglisau.  Here  our 
coachman  baited  his  horses  on  bread,  baked  for  that 
especial  purpose,  and  again  we  moved  on.  Soon  after 
we  arrived  at  the  *'  Hotel  Weber,"  overlooking  the 
Falls  of  the  Rhine.  These  much-talked-of  Falls 
have  nothing  of  grandeur  about  them,  but  arc  very 
beautiful,  as  you  look  down  from  the  terrace  of  the 


110  Memories  over  the  Water. 

hotel  upon  a  noble  river,  rushing  over  a  fall  of  some 
thirty  feet  in  height.  Two  small  and  isolated  stone 
islands  stand  up  just  on  the  verge  of  the  waterfall, 
thus  dividing  the  stream  into  three  separate  parts. 
The  snow-white  foam,  caused  by  the  rush  of  the  rapid 
current  over  the  rocks  above,  is  exquisitely  beautiful, 
and  as  the  racing  torrent  plunges  over  the  rocky 
ledge,  the  wreathing  spray,  with  its  attendant  iris, 
"rises  like  incense  from  the  altar  of  nature." 

Among  our  memories  of  "  Hotel  Weber"  we  may 
not  forget  the  beautiful  and  blushing  young  bride, 
that  we  encountered  upon  the  hotel  terrace.  Her  fair 
face  flitted  for  a  moment  only  athwart  our  delighted 
vision,  then  passed  away.  It  came  like  the  flash  of 
some  loving  sunbeam  upon  the  dark  waters  of  mem- 
ory, and  was  gone.  Seen  but  for  a  moment,  it  will 
yet  linger  for  a  lifetime  amid  the  phantom  beauties 
of  the  heart. 

At  this  point  we  discharged  our  coachman,  and 
taking  an  omnibus  to  Shaffhausen,  about  two  miles 
distant,  we  there  embarked  aboard  a  small  steamer, 
it  being  our  purpose  to  reach  Constance  by  the  river 
Khine.  Moving  out  into  the  middle  of  the  stream, 
we  went  gliding  up  the  swift  current,  and  making  but 
slow  progress  against  its  rapid  headway.  Winding 
quietly  along  the  fair  banks  of  this  poetic  river,  whose 
verdant  sides  were  covered  with  the  vine-clad  terrace, 
and  whose  wondrous  beauty  was  rendered  all  but  holy 
by  the  moldering  ruins  of  the  ivy-grown  castles,  we 
thought  of  all  those  wild  and  entrancing  legends,  the 


Memories   oveii  the  "Water.  Ill 

perusal  of  wliicli  had  so  often  caused  us,  iu  our  college 
days,  to  come  up  with  a  "bob-tailed  nine"  to  our  re- 
citations. Occasionally  we  would  dash  under  one  of 
the  low  and  narrow  bridges  which  span  the  Khine 
between  Constance  and  Schaffhausen,  and  whose 
floors  we  touched  with  our  hand  as  we  glided  under. 
The  ruin  of  Ilohenklingcn,  perched  on  the  summit  of 
a  lofty  hill,  is  one  of  the  most  prominent  points  on 
the  passage  up.  After  shooting  the  second  bridge,  the 
passengers  were  all  shipped  aboard  a  larger  and  bet- 
ter boat,  called  the  "Helvetia,"  while  the  little  "dug- 
out that  had  brought  us  thus  far,  turned  back  again. 
During  the  transfer  of  the  passengers  and  their  bag- 
gage, we  were  standing  quietly  on  the  deck  of  our 
boat,  and  noting  the  various  objects  presented  to  our 
view,  when  we  observed  a  huge,  moustached  German 
rush  forward  to  greet  a  fellow-countrymau,  who  like 
himself  was  bountifully  supplied  with  the  upper-lip 
ornament,  and  throwing  his  arms  afiectionately 
around  his  delicate  companion,  they  kissed — actually 
kissed — each  other.  The  whole  afiair  was  to  us  so 
ludicrous — the  surprise  so  shocking — that  we  ail-but 
tumbled  backward  into  the  water.  But  at  last  we 
managed  to  regain  our  composure;  yet  never  to  this 
good  day  have  we  ceased  to  wonder  at  the  barbarous 
custom. 


CHAPTER    XVI 


Passengers  and  baggage  being  transferred,  we 
again  moved  on  np  the  Ehine,  Passed  by  Itznang, 
the  birthplace  of  Mesmer,  the  discoverer  of  animal 
magnetism,  and  also  by  the  picturesque  old  castle  of 
Gottlieben,  with  its  gray  and  aged  towers.  This  castle 
is  remarkable  as  having  been  the  prison  of  John 
Huss,  the  reformer  and  martyr,  and  also  of  Jerome  of 
Prague,  his  companion  and  colleague.  Passing  now 
under  an  old  and  dilapidated  bridge,  we  bore  around 
to  the  left,  and  landed  at  the  wharf  of  Constance.  A 
long  stone  pier  here  reaches  out  into  the  lake,  and 
bending  into  a  wide  embrace,  serves  to  break  the  force 
of  the  waves,  thus  rendering  a  safe  harbor  to  the 
steamers  and  other  small  craft,  that  may  come  within 
its  friendly  arms.  Here  your  passports  are  generally 
called  for,  and  your  baggage  examined ;  both  of 
which,  however,  were  kindly  dispensed  with,  in  our 
case,  by  the  courteous  officers,  on  learning  that  we 
were  a  party  of  Americans. 

Constance  is  a  decayed  old  city,  containing  only 
seven  thousand  two  hundred  inhabitants,  though  it 
once  possessed  the  respectable  number  of  forty  thous- 
and. Robert  Hallam,  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  is  buried 
(112) 


Memories  over  the  Water.  113 

here,  under  a  monument  of  bronze,  brought  from  the 
shores  of  Enghmd,  Here  the  great  "Council  of  Con- 
stance""  lielJ  its  sittings  from  1414  to  1418,  which  im- 
mortalized itself  by  declaring  Church  Council  superior 
to  the  will  of  the  Pope,  and  deposing  John  23d,  and 
Benedict  13th  to  elect  Martin  5th  ;  but  which,  also, 
eternally  disgraced  itself  by  the  treacherous  seizure  and 
cruel  murder  of  John  Uuss  and  Jerome  of  Prague. 
Before  leaving  Constance  we  took  a  walk  over  the  city, 
and  visited  first  the  cathedral,  and  then  the  old  council 
chamber,  situated  hard  by  the  shore  of  the  lake.  The 
council  hall  is  now  nothing  more  than  a  dilapidated 
old  room,  more  like  a  depository  for  ancient  lumber, 
than  aught  else.  In  this  chamber  we  saw  the  sedan 
in  which  John  Huss  was  borne  to  the  stake.  "We 
also  went  into  the  museum  adjoining,  which,  for  the 
benefit  of  others,  we  will  say  is  a  decided  humbug. 
They  have  here  the  efiigies  of  IIuss,  Jerome,  and 
a  Dominican  friar;  all  hideous-looking  objects.  The 
voluble  door-keeper  will  persuade  you  to  purchase 
a  small  image,  which  he  will  tell  you  is  the  express 
likeness  of  the  innocent  and  heroic  martyr,  and  which 
is  made  of  the  clay  taken  from  the  very  identical  spot 
on  which  he  was  burned,  and  inclosed  in  a  small  box, 
which  is  also  manufactured  of  the  wood  growing  near ; 
all  of  which  are  pretty  heavy  drafts  upon  the  bank  of 
your  credulity. 

Our  hotel  at  Constance,  the  "Brochct,"  was  an 
elegant  establishment,  and  admirably  conducted.  Our 
landlord,  M.  Keppler,  was  at  once  an  attentive  host. 


114  Memories   oyer  the  "Water. 

and  a  courteous,  yea,  a  courtly  gentleman,  who  spoke 
the  English  language  with  the  ease  and  the  fluency 
of  a  native.  In  his  handsomely  furnished  apartments 
we  felt  more  as  an  invited  guest,  than  tenant  by  right 
of  pay.  The  position  of  the  hotel  was  likewise  agree- 
able, for,  from  our  window  at  night,  we  might  look 
forth  upon  the  fair  queen  of  love,  rising  over  the  dis- 
tant mountains,  a  misty  vail  about  her  pensive  face, 
which  was  reflected  down  in  the  quiet  lake,  trailing  a 
long  train  of  burnished  silver  through  the  calm  waters 
of  Constance. 

The  German  ladies,  as  well  as  the  gentlemen,  have, 
generally,  much  better  forms,  and  more  pleasant 
features  than  other  European  nations.  They  seem,  in 
their  dispositions,  more  social  and  afiectionate;  more 
honest  and  sincere.  They  have  intelligent,  often  intel- 
lectual countenances,  with  fair  complexions,  blue  eyes 
and  brown  hair.  Their  soldiers,  in  their  handsome 
uniform,  present  a  fine  appearance,  and,  as  a  general 
thing,  are  excellent  specimens  of  manhood. 

About  10  o'clock  a.  m.,  we  again  went  aboard  the 
Helvetia,  and  crossed  over  the  lake  to  Friedrich- 
shafen,  situated  on  its  northern  shore,  about  midway 
from  end  to  end.  Here  we  took  the  rail,  and  went 
rushing  over  a  beautiful  country  toward  the  city  of 
Ulm.  The  intermediate  region  was  thickly  dotted 
with  villages,  and  seemed  fertile  and  productive,  the 
land  being  generally  level,  and  lying  exceedingly  well 
fur  cultivation.  About  4  o'clock  p.  m.,  we  arrived  at 
Ulm,  and  having  first  found  our  hotel,  we  sallied  out 


Memories  over  the  Water.  115 

to  visit  tlio  liuge,  gotliic  cathedral  of  this  city.  "Wo 
entered  its  massive  doors  in  the  dhn  shadows  of 
twilight,  anil  as  we  looked  upon  its  lofty  arches, 
reposing  in  the  deep  silence  and  "dim  religious  light" 
of  the  temple,  the  imposing  spectacle  called  into  play 
a  feeling  of  pensive  thought  and  solemn  reverence. 
Ulm  contains  about  twenty-three  thousand  inhab- 
itants, and  is  famous  as  the  city,  surrendered  by 
"Mack  the  Incapable"  to  Napoleon,  though  he  was 
posted  in  a  strongly  fortified  tow^n,  and  in  command 
of  thirty  thousand  men.  We  cannot  say  much  for  the 
soldier,  who  would  thus  yielcl  to  the  terror  of  a  name, 
without  striking  one  blow  for  his  country,  his  com- 
rades, and  his  character.  Near  Ulm  we  saw  and 
crossed  the  Danube. 

^Yhile  at  Ulm  we  remember  that  a  very  genteel  old 
lady  came  up  to  our  rooms,  with  an  assortment  of 
various  toys  for  sale.  In  our  conversation  she  cas- 
ually learned  that  we  were  Americans,  and  was  there- 
upon afiected  to  tears,  as  she  told  how  she,  too,  had  a 
dear  son,  far  away  in  Chili  of  South  America,  who 
had  been  expelled  from  his  native  land,  because  he 
was  a  republican  in  principle.  The  good  old  lady 
had  been  chatting  merrily  the  while,  and  a  garrulous 
old  age  seemed  making  its  stealthy  advances  upon 
her  declining  years.  But  so  soon  as  the  name  of 
America  was  mentioned,  her  mirth  and  merriment 
ceased,  a  flood  of  memories,  connected  with  the  child- 
hood of  the  absent  son,  seemed  sweeping  across  her 
mind,  and  the  tears  trickled  rapidly  down  her  furrowed 


IIG  Memories  oyek  the  Watek, 

cheeks.  Her  toys  were  all  forgotten,  and  as  the  dew 
of  her  fond  sorrow  slione  in  her  eyes,  now  dim  with 
age,  she  told  ns,  in  broken  accents,  how  kind  a  son  he 
was  and  how  bitter  was  her  sorrow  that  he  should 
be  taken  away.  Though  we  bought  a  memento  of 
the  Bavarian  mother,  yet  no  tangible  souvenir  was 
requisite  to  keep  her  kind  old  face  still  fresh  in  our 
memory. 

About  10  o'clock  that  night  we  took  our  seats  in 
the  diligence,  and  traveling  all  night  we  reached 
Augsburg  the  next  morning  about  sunrise,  and  im- 
mediately took  the  cars  for  Munich.  The  country 
through  which  we  passed  was  a  lovely  picture  ;  though 
the  land  was  almost  a  perfect  level,  admirably  adapted 
for  railroads  and  race-courses.  Previous  to  reaching 
Munich,  w^e  saw  the  bold  outline  of  the  Tyrol  Moun- 
tains, or  Rhsetian  Alps,  rising  abruptly  out  of  the 
plains,  and  covered  with  perpetual  snow. 


CHAPTETv    XVII. 


Munich  is  situated  on  the  poetic  Iscr,  immortal  in 
English  song,  and  contains  100,000  inhabitants.  The 
country  around  is  one  vast  plain,  over  which  roam 
and  feed  large  herds  of  cattle.  No  fence  nor  cottage 
breaks  the  monotony  of  the  continued  level,  and  at 
each  nightfall  it  seems  that  the  countrymen  all  gather 
themselves  within  the  friendly  walls  of  the  city. 

Soon  after  our  arrival,  a  carriage  and  "  commis- 
sionaire "  were  ordered,  and  we  went  forth  from  our 
hotel,  to  see  whatever  sights  the  city  aflbrded.  We 
drove  first  to  the  "  Pinacotheque,"  and  on  our  way 
we  saw  the  cotta2:e-residence  of  the  noted  Lola  Mon- 
tez,  from  which  she  was  expelled  by  an  infuriated 
mob  of  students.  The  Pinacotheque  is  a  magnificent 
gallery  of  paintings,  whose  walls  are  hung  with  the 
choicest  productions  in  the  Bavarian  kingdom.  They 
are  ranged,  according  to  the  diflerent  schools,  in  nine 
beautiful  halls  and  twenty-three  small  cabinets,  and 
were,  at  the  time  of  our  visit,  1 270  in  number.  In 
the  grand  hall,  we  accidentally  encountered  a  very 
courteous  and  accomplished  English  gentleman,  who, 
as  an  exception  to  the  general  character  of  his 
countrymen,  was  socially   inclined,  and   being   well 

ril7  ) 


118  Memokies  oyer  the  Water, 

acquainted  with  the  arrangement  of  the  galleries,  he 
kindly  volunteered  to  point  out  the  most  celebrated 
works  in  the  vast  collection.  Passing  bv  the  more 
eminent  productions,  we  will  only  advert  to  a  few, 
whose  merits  especially  commended  themselves  to  our 
own  untaught  appreciation.  Particularly  were  we 
pleased  with  the  benevolent  expression  that  rested 
upon  the  face  of  an  old  man.  His  features  were 
represented  to  the  very  life,  and  seemed  to  stand  out 
bona  fide  flesh  and  bone — each  separate  wrinkle  dis- 
tinctly marked,  and  each  gray  hair  so  perfectly 
natural,  it  seemed  as  though  you  might  lift  that  thin, 
white  lock  from  ofi'  the  furrowed  forehead.  We  also 
observed  a  most  exquisite  painting  of  the  infant 
Savior,  holding  a  bouquet  of  flowers,  freshly  gathered, 
in  his  hand.  How  softly  gentle — how  serenely  wise 
— ^how  more  than  human  was  the  expression  of  that 
sweet  face  ;  how  true  to  nature,  and  how  true  to  art — 
how  childlike  and  how  graceful,  w'as  his  winning  atti- 
tude. Those  two  paintings  linger  yet  lovingly  upon 
our  memory — rest  yet  calmly  and  sweetly  upon  our 
heart.  So  potent  and  so  sacred  was  the  influence  of 
their  mysterious  power,  that  they  might  serve  as  a 
guardian  amulet  to  our  thoughts,  a  protecting  talisman 
against  the  Tempter. 

The  porter  of  the  Pinacotheque  was  a  huge, 
lantern-jawed,  big-fisted,  raw-boned,  slab-sided  Por- 
phyrion,  by  the  side  of  whom  our  portly  Bishop 
dwindled  down  into  corporeal  insignificance.  He  was 
the  first  and  last  object  that  greeted  our  attention,  as 


Memokies  o^EK  THE  Water.  110 

he  stood,  a  silent  and  stolid  sentinel,  at  the  door  of 
the  Finacotheque. 

We  now  drove  to  the  Basilica  of  St.  Boniface,  whose 
interior  is  of  the  richest  and  most  gorgeous  character, 
abounding,  too,  in  ornaments  of  the  chastest  beauty, 
and  the  purest  elegance.  The  floor  is  entirely  laid 
with  costly  mosaic,  and  the  roof  is  supported  by  sixty- 
six  handsome  marble  pillars.  Along  the  walls  arc 
ranged  ten  large  and  twelve  smaller  frescoes,  repre- 
senting the  principal  events  in  the  history  of  the 
patron  saint.  The  exterior  of  the  building  is 
nothing  remarkable,  either  in  architecture  or  embel- 
lishment. 

We  next  found  our  way  to  the  bronze,  colossal 
statue,  representing  the  Genius  of  Bavaria.  Such  arc 
the  proportions  of  this  splendid  image,  that  a  man  may 
stand  upright  in  the  cavity  of  its  head.  At  the  feet 
of  this  Guardian  Genius,  reclines  a  gigantic  lion  ; 
in  her  left  arm  she  holds  the  wreath  of  victory,  and 
on  her  right  arm  reposes  the  sword  of  justice.  At 
the  time  of  our  visit,  workmen  were  cne;ao;ed  in 
erecting  a  semi-circular  temple  just  in  the  rear  of 
the  statue. 

We  now  went  to  the  telescope  and  eye-glass  estab- 
lishment of  the  celebrated  Frauenhofl'en  (brothers). 
Thence  wo  rode  to  the  Church  of  St.  Michael,  where 
wo  saw  the  monument  erected  to  the  memory  of  Eu- 
gene Bcauharnais,  step-son  of  Napoleon,  by  his  wife. 
Thence  to  the  huge  old  cathedral — a  massive  and 
towering  pile  of  red  brick.     Ilere  we  saw  a  splendid 


120  Memories  over  the  Water. 

bronze  monument  to  the  Emperor  Louis  the  Barerian. 
At  each  corner  of  the  sarcophagus  kneels  an  armed 
knight,  clad  "cap-a-pie"  in  burnished  armor,  and 
bearing  in  their  left  hands  the  pennon  of  their  lord. 
On  either  side  stand  two  Barerian  dukes  in  mournful 
attitude.  The  monument  is  all  of  the  finest  bronze, 
and  beautifully  wrought. 

We  next  made  our  way  to  the  royal  Palace,  or,  as 
it  is  there  called,  the  "  Residenz."  After  waiting  a 
short  while  in  the  vestibule,  we  were  finally  ap- 
proached by  a  conductor,  who  supplied  the  company 
with  large,  soft  slippers  of  cloth,  to  go  over  our 
shoes,  and  thus  prevent  injury  to  furniture  and  floor 
during  our  ramble  through  the  various  apartments. 
Before  commencing  our  march,  we  bought  a  small 
guide-book  of  the  Palace,  from  a  pretty  Bavarian 
girl,  whose  own  fair  face,  rather  than  the  intrinsic 
service  of  the  book,  M^as  the  motive  of  the  pur- 
chase. 

We  were  now  first  ushered,  through  several  ante- 
chambers, into  the  Ballroom,  a  spacious  and  a  fitting 
place  to  trip  the  merry  dance,  when  beauty  and  when 
royalty  are  gathered  there.  Above  is  the  gallery  for 
the  musicians,  and  on  the  walls  are  groups  of  dancers 
in  fresco.  Next  we  entered  the  Hall  of  Beauty, 
so  called  because  containing  the  portraits  of  the  most 
celebrated  beauties  of  the  present  day.  They  are 
all  from  the  brush  of  Stieler,  and  are  exquisitely 
executed.  We  were  ever  susceptive  to  the  enchant- 
ment of  the  fair — ever  submissive  to   the  magic  of 


Memories  over  the  "Water.  121 

their  wand.  Upon  the  pathway  of  our  lilc,  the 
smile  of  beauty  breaks  like  the  "  Will  o'  the  wisp," 
and  wc  blindly  follow  in  the  wildering  lure  of  the 
spirit-light.  No  marvel,  then,  that  as  our  eye  rested 
fondly  on  those  beauteous  brows,  our  heart  should 
softly  yield  to  the  pulsation  of  love;  for,  unrebuked, 
WG  looked  upon  the  deep,  the  love-beaming  eye  of 
blue  ;  and  the  free  fancy  reveled  in  the  dark  depths 
of  the  passionate  orb  of  jet.  Tlicre  was  the  fiiiry 
blonde  and  the  bonny  brunette — ringlets  of  the  sun- 
set hue,  carelessly  straying  over  ivory  shoulders,  and 
dark  masses  of  wavy  hair,  closely  braided  from  the 
polished  brow.  There  were  carnation  lips,  whose 
sweet  pouting  seemed  like  two  blushing  strawberries, 
just  kissed  by  the  morning  dew,  and  there  was 
again  the  closely-chiseled  mouth,  bespeaking  a  heart 
which  might  love,  and  yet  a  will  that  might  dare. 
There  was  the  proud  daughter  of  the  monarch,  and 
the  peerless  child  of  the  peasant,  the  belle  of  the 
ball  and  the  pride  of  the  stage,  the  court  beauty  and 
the  cloister-nun.  In  fine,  no  one,  whatever  phase  of 
loveliness  may  be  his  choice,  may  pass  through  that 
magic  chamber,  unchallenged  by  the  mute  appeal  of 
those  fair  faces.  The  dormant  fires  of  age  itself 
shall  wake  at  least  to  a  fitful  life,  and  the  heart 
of  the  most  devoted  anclioritc  thrill  once  more, 
beneath  the  unseen  touch  of  Beauty's  hand.  He 
who  puts  foot  within  that  enchanted  room,  comes  out, 
for  a  time  at  least,  in    love.      Among  the  portraits 

10 


122  Memories   over  the  Water. 

that  there  look  lovingly  dowu  upon  the  visitor,  we 
saw  that  of  Lola  Montez,  who  even  now,  in  the  land 
of  the  West,  leads  captive  the  popular  mind. 

From  the  Hall  of  Beauty,  we  passed  into  the  Hall 
of  Victory,  containing  several  immense  paintings, 
representing  the  various  battle-scenes,  in  which  the 
Bavarian  army  was  engaged,  from  1805  to  1815. 
Thence  we  entered  the  Hall  of  Charlemagne,  where 
are  twenty  superb  paintings,  portraying  various 
scenes  in  the  eventful  career  of  that  triumphant 
emperor.  Thence  to  the  Hall  of  Barbarossa,  adorned 
with  one  dozen  elegant  pictures.  Thence  to  the 
Hapsburg  Hall,  used  by  their  majesties  the  King 
and  Queen,  on  state  occasions ;  and,  finally,  to  the 
Throne  Boom — a  most  magnificent  apartment — orna- 
mented by  twelve  colossal  statues  of  various  kings 
and  emperors,  mounted  on  pedestals,  and  placed  at 
corresponding  intervals  on  each  side  of  the  room. 
They  are  all  of  bronze,  but  washed  with  the  richest 
gilt,  which  gives  tliem  the  appearance  of  golden  sta- 
tues. "With  this  room  our  trampling  was  concluded, 
when,  weary  and  v^oljisli^  we  sought  our  hotel,  and 
sat  down  to  a  sumptuous  dinner. 

"We  had  now  seen  many  handsome  cities,  since 
we  set  sail  from  the  land  of  the  West,  but  none 
had  we  visited,  whose  appearance  was  as  pleasing  as 
the  fair  city  of  Munich.  It  is,  tlirougliout,  remark- 
ably clean,  airy,  and  open,  with  broad  avenues  and 
spacious  streets.     Each  house  seems  to  have  "elbow 


Mkmoiues  over  the  Water.  123 

room,"  and  the  beauty  oi"  the  buildings  generally  is 
much  enhanced  by  their  white  stuccoed  fronts,  giving 
a  delightful  air  of  cleanliness  to  the  place.  The 
Munich  gentleman  we  found  the  pink  of  politeness, 
who  doffs  his  hat  to  the  high  and  the  low,  and 
almost  beats  the  Parisian  himself  in  punctilio. 


CHAPTER    XVIII 


Well!  we  left  the  fair  city  of  Munich  at  six  o'clock 
on  the  morning  of  the  lOtli  of  September,  and  after  a 
weary  railway  ride  we  arrived  at  the  city  of  Ilof  soon 
after  dark.  "We  observed  as  we  passed  out  from 
Munich,  that  great  quantities  of  peat  were  taken  up 
from  the  turf  in  its  neighborhood.  On  the  plains 
near  Augsburg  we  saw  the  Bavarian  troops  on  parade. 
Passed  by  many  populous  cities  in  our  rapid  flight, 
whose  names  and  number  of  inhabitants  were  given 
us  by  a  very  courteous  gentleman,  whom  we  had  as  a 
traveling  companion,  and  who,  though  a  German, 
spoke  the  English  language  perfectly  well.  He  en- 
lightened us  on  many  points  concerning  the  present 
condition  of  the  German  Confederacy,  and  spoke  most 
disparagingly  of  its  political  organization,  of  its 
chaotic  and  unintelligible  rule,  of  its  degeneracy  and 
its  oppression,  and  evidently  showing,  from  many  sen- 
timents which  escaped  his  lips,  his  utter  disgust  at  his 
own  government,  and  that  he,  like  many  of  his  coun- 
trymen, would  be  a  republican  if  he  dared. 

On  the  following:  morninej  while  makino;  the  best 

of  a  bad  breakfast,  preparatory  to  an  early  start  from 

Ilof,    we   were  much    amused   at    the    manipulating 
(124)  •    . 


Memories  over  the  AVater,  125 

method,  adopted  by  our  wurtliy  Bishop,  of"  iiiduciug 
a  certain  German  to  dispense  with  his  cigar.  Now 
the  Germans  are  the  most  inveterate  smokers  in  the 
world,  and  deem  it  no  infringement  of  good-breeding 
and  etiquette  to  smoke  in  the  presence  of  ladies.  Tliis 
we  knew,  and  consequently  could  never  insist  that 
one  of  these  phlegmatic  sons  of  humanity  should 
throw  away  his  cigar,  when  by  chance  we  might  be 
thrown  in  contact  duriuo;  the  hours  of  travel.  But  on 
this  occasion  the  ladies  of  our  party  were  at  breakfast, 
and  this  devotee  of  tobacco  was  standing  near  the 
fire  puffing  away  with  the  most  provoking  noncha- 
lance. The  disagreeable  odor  was  submitted  to  for  a 
considerable  time;  but  finally  the  fumes  of  the  noxious 
weed  grew  intolerable,  and  called  for  some  redress. 
Quietly  rising  from  the  table  our  Herculean  Bishop 
strode  heavily  across  the  room,  and  without  deigning 
one  word  of  German,  French  or  English,  he  looked 
the  ofi'ending  smoker  full  in  the  face,  and  placing  his 
two  fingers  upon  his  lips  deliberately  motioned  to 
him  to  throw  away  the  cigar — at  the  same  time 
pointing,  as  some  apology,  to  the  ladies  at  the  table, 
thereby  intimating  that  his  smoking  M-as  to  them 
ofiensive.  The  stupefied  German  stood  astounded 
and  nmte,  staring  with  eyes  wide  open  into  tiie 
American's  face,  until  the  significant  intimation  was 
again  slowly  and  deliberately  repeated.  Slyly  scan- 
ning the  stalwart  frame  and  formidable  look  of  him, 
who  had  so  suddenly  stalked  before  him  with  liis 
t^ilent  admonition,  the   fallow  now   slowly   drew   the 


126  Memories  over  the  Water. 

cigar  from  his  mouth,  but  would  not  throw  it  away, 
reserving  the  luxury  for  some  other  and  more  pro- 
pitious occasion.  This,  however,  was  a  satisfactory 
compromise,  and  the  Bishop  again  returned  to  his 
seat  as  silently  as  he  had  left  it.  During  the  entire 
transaction  not  one  word  was  spoken  on  either  side, 
giving  the  whole  afiair  an  air  of  the  most  comic 
gi-avity. 

At    six   o'clock,   A.    M.,  we   were   speeding  away 
toward   the  Prussian   capital.     In   about  four  hours 
after  we  had  reached  the  handsome  city  of  Leipzic, 
and  there  awaited  the  train,  which  was  to  leave  for 
Berlin  at  three  o'clock   in   the  afternoon.     The  day 
was  damp,  dark  and  dreary,  while  a  dull  and  drizzling 
rain  lent  to  the  face  of  nature  a  somber  and  gloomy 
aspect.     Leipzic  is  not  without  its  share  in  the  lights 
and  shadows  of  historic  romance ;  for  here  the  brave 
but  unfortunate  Poniatowsky  was  first  wounded  and 
then  drowned,   when    Napoleon,   flying   before    the 
combined  forces  of  the  allied  army,  blew  up  the  bridge 
over  the  Elster,  in  order  to  intercept  the  pursuit  of 
his  enemies,  but  thereby  dooming  a  portion  of  his 
own  devoted  comrades  to  inevitable  destruction.     The 
gallant  steed,  though  faint  and  bleeding,  bore  his 
dauntless  rider  into  the  turbid  stream,  and  fearlessly 
breasting  the  angry  waves  reached  the  opposite  side. 
But  here  the  weary  charger,  breathless  and  exhausted, 
while  still  struggling  up  the  slippery  bank,  fell  back- 
ward again,  and  the  waters  of  the  dusky  Elster  closed 
oyer  the  soul  of  chivalry,  the  very  emblem  of  honor 


Memories  over  the  Water.  127 

and  fidelity.  The  sheen  on  that  warrior's  lance  was 
lost,  the  glitter  of  his  blade  was  gone,  as  weak  and 
battle-worn  both  horse  and  rider  sank  beneath  the 
blood-stained  wave. 

But  the  appointed  hour  came  round,  and  again  we 
were  on  the  move,  scouring  across  the  level  plains  of 
Leipzic,  on  which  history  affirms  the  camp-fires  of  the 
allied  troops  were  nightly  seen  to  glimmer  for  thirty 
miles  in  the  distance,  as  they  gradually  concentrated 
to  cnish  the  dreaded  foe,  that  like  lion  in  his  lair  lay 
waiting  for  their  cominsr.  Nearer  and  more  near  the 
gay  and  glittering  troops,  their  bright  banners  flouting 
in  the  morning  wind  and  furled  again  at  nightfall, 
came  vcrgino;  to  a  center.  Their  bristling  ranks  now 
encircled  the  walled  city  like  a  band  of  living  steel, 
when  bursting,  like  the  avenging  thunderbolt  from 
the  red  right-hand  of  heaven,  came  the  invincible 
Napoleon,  breaking  like  flaxen  tJireads  their  serried 
columns  and  hurling  death  and  destruction  on  that 
myriad  host. 

The  country  still  mainly  preserved  its  uniform  level, 
varied  principally  by  several  splendid  bridges,  built 
upon  a  succession  of  arches,  and  of  awful  height. 
The  depth  to  the  river  below  seemed  immense,  as 
our  snake-like  train  wound  slowly  over  the  tremeih- 
dous  structures — noble  specimens  of  architecture  and 
workmanship.  The  little  dormer-windows,  built  in 
the  precise  shape  of  an  eye,  and  peeping  out  from  the 
roof  of  the  village  cottage,  attracted  our  particular 
attention.     No  fence  nor  rural  hamlet  here  dots  the 


128  Memories  over  the  Water. 

surface  of  this  land  of  military  rule.  The  people 
cluster  in  walled  towns,  protected  by  turret  and 
tower,  whence  they  hie  to  their  labor  at  early  dawn, 
to  mow  their  hay  and  reap  their  gi-ain.  At  half  past 
nine  o'clock,  p.  m.,  we  rolled  into  the  station-house 
at  Berlin,  and  were  soon  amid  a  promiscuous  crowd 
of  porters,  soldiers,  cab-drivers  and  travelers.  Taking 
a  "droskic"  we  rattled  away,  over  well -paved  and 
handsomely-lighted  streets,  to  the  "  Hotel  do  Kussie." 


CHATTER    XIX. 

Our  hotel  in  Berlin  was  located  in  the  finest  por- 
tion of  the  city,  having  for  its  immediate  neighbors 
the  Royal  Palace,  the  Museum,  the  Arsenal,  the 
Opera  House,  and  the  University — all  superb  build- 
ings, and  many  of  them  adorned  with  statues  of 
marble  and  of  bronze.  The  Museum  especially  com- 
mended itself  to  our  admiration  by  the  immense  and 
beautiful  frescoes  which  grace  the  front  of  this  hand- 
some edifice.  They  represent  the  gradual  develop- 
ment of  the  human  intellect  and  the  progressive 
formation  of  the  universe.  The  conception  of  the 
artist  was  no  less  lofty  than  the  execution  was  ele- 
gant. A  mammoth  basin  of  beautiful  granite  stands 
just  at  the  flight  of  stone  steps,  wliich  lead  up  into 
the  vestibule,  while  on  the  right  is  the  celebrated 
group  in  bronze,  representing  the  combat  between  a 
mounted  Amazon  and  an  enraged  tigress. 

On  the  Monday  following  a  carriage  and  "valet  de 

place"  were  engaged,  and  in  company  with  the  ladies 

of  our  party  we  started  out  on  a  search  for  the  sights 

of  Berlin.     "We  first  drove  out  to  the  low  sandhill, 

called  the  Kroutzbcrg,  on  whose  suumiit  is  erected  an 

iron  monuinont,  commemorating  the  victories  gained 
11  (lOo/ 


130  Memokies   over  the  Watek. 

by  the  Prussians  over  the  French.  The  entrance  of 
the  inclosure  is  kept  by  an  old  soldier  with  only  one 
leg ;  the  other,  he  will  tell  you,  was  carried  away  by  a 
cannon  ball  on  the  field  of  Waterloo.  Next  we  drove 
down  the  "  Rue  Belle- Yue,"  on  which  are  situated 
some  of  the  most  beautiful  private  residences  of  the 
city.  We  stopped  on  the  border  of  the  "  Thier  Gar- 
ten," and  got  out  to  see  the  fine  marble  statue  of 
Frederick  William  Third,  dressed  in  the  plain  garb 
of  a  private  citizen.  Thence  we  drove  out  to  Char- 
lottenberg,  a  small  village  about  three  miles  distant 
from  Berlin,  where  the  palace,  denominated  the 
Schloss,  is  situated,  but  which,  as  we  know,  is  not 
worth  the  trouble  of  entering.  The  chief  object  of 
attraction  about  this  village  is  the  Mausoleum  of 
Louisa,  Queen  of  Prussia.  We  found  it  an  exqui- 
sitely beautiful  Doric  temple,  resting  in  a  quiet  and 
secluded  spot,  just  at  the  termination  of  a  long 
avenue  of  trees,  and  built  entirely  of  ]5ure  granite  of 
the  finest  polish.  It  contains  the  sarcophagi  of  the 
ill-fated  Louisa  and  the  late  King.  The  face  and 
form  of  the  unfortunate  princess  are  strikingly  beauti- 
ful, and  are  said  to  be  a  correct  likeness.  She  is 
represented  in  the  attitude  of  death,  reclining  above 
the  marble  tomb,  with  hands  meekly  folded  over  her 
gentle  bosom,  while  a  simple  and  tranquil  air  of 
sweet  repose  lingers  upon  her  lovely  features,  which 
is  very  touching.  The  body  is  attired  in  a  plain 
dress  of  drapery,  which  falls  in  graceful  folds  about 
her  fair  form.     Several  withered  garlands  are  to  be 


Memories   over  the  Water.  131 

Boeii  upon  the  walls,  which  are  said  to  be  the  first 
offerings  of  the  children  at  the  grave  of  their  mother. 
The  body  of  the  King  is  also  a  line  specimen  of 
sculpture,  as  he  reposes  by  the  side  of  the  Queen, 
with  his  "martial  cloak  around  him."  The  effect 
upon  the  pure  white  marble  is  heightened  by  the 
light  streaming  down  from  above,  through  the  stained 
glass,  with  a  pallid,  death-like  hue. 

Berlin  is  a  very  handsome,  well-built  city.  The 
houses  are  generally  low,  and  the  streets  perfectly 
level.  The  principal  thoroughfare  is  the  "Unter-den 
Linden,"  which  serves  the  purpose  of  both  park  and 
street.  Near  the  head  of  this  avenue  is  a  superb 
monument  in  brass,  with  a  colossal  equestrian  statue 
of  Frederick  the  Great,  surmounting  tlic  handsome 
pedestal,  which  is  wrought  with  elaboration  and 
exceeding  skill. 

Our  next  visit  was  to  the  Eoyal  Palace,  of  which 
we  made  only  a  rapid  and  cursory  inspection.  Our 
"castellan"  we  found  a  jovial  fellow,  whose  facetious 
remarks  enlivened  our  tramp  through  the  entensive 
suite  of  royal  apartments.  The  "White  Ilall"  is  a 
beautiful  room,  which  had  lately  been  fitted  up,  as  we 
are  told,  at  the  cost  of  eight  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars. The  picture-gallery  is  very  fine.  We  saw  there 
the  original  of  "Napoleon  crossing  the  Alps,"  by 
David.  Saw  Bonaparte's  bedroom,  occupied  by  him 
during  his  temporaiy  residence  in  Berlin  ;  and  in  his 
chamber  were  shown  a  clock  which  requires  winding 
up  only  once  a  year.     The  apartments  are  enriched 


132  Memokies  ovek   the  Watek. 

by  many  beautiful  and  curious  pieces  of  furniture. 
The  floors  are  elaborately  tassellated,  their  centers 
being  frequently  inlaid  with  ivory. 

Returning  to  our  hotel,  we  started,  by  droskie,  for 
the  railway  station,  and  took  the  eleven  o'clock  train 
for  Potsdam,  which  is  called  the  Prussian  Yersailles, 
and  about  twenty  miles  distant  from  Berlin.  The 
country  traversed  was,  as  usual,  level,  devoid  of  either 
beauty  of  scenery  or  fertility  of  soil.  In  about  one 
hour  we  reached  the  city,  containing  about  thirty 
thousand  inhabitants.  The  principal  object  of  our 
visit  to  Potsdam  was  to  see  Baron  Alexander  Yon 
Humboldt,  the  illustrious  philosopher  and  traveler, 
our  Minister  at  Berlin,  Mr.  Barnard  having  kindly 
furnished  us  with  a  letter  of  introduction.  "We  found 
the  author  of  Kosmos  posted  in  very  plain  apartments 
in  the  "  Old  Palace,"  and  who  received  us  with  the 
greatest  kindness  and  cordiality.  The  old  gentleman 
was  modestlv  attired,  with  a  laro-e  white  cravat  about 
his  neck,  the  only  part  of  his  dress  at  all  calculated 
to  attract  attention.  lie  took  each  one  of  us  by  the 
hand  as  we  entered,  invited  ns  to  be  seated,  and 
began  at  once  a  very  animated  conversation,  referring 
chiefly  to  the  rising  race  of  American  astronomers 
and  philosophers,  our  Cuban  diflSculties,  and  our  late 
war  with  Mexico.  He  spoke  very  highly  of  Tennes- 
see's gifted  son.  Lieutenant  Maury,  of  the  United 
States'  navy,  and  complimented  our  country  as  a 
nation  of  enterprise  and  intelligence.  But  he  thought 
our  war  with   Mexico  unjust,  and  the  spirit  of  our 


Mkmouiks   ovKii   TiiK  WAua:.  133 

people  more  rapacious  than  it  slioukl  be.  Tlicrc  was 
soniethinj^  extremely  agreeable  about  his  amiable 
countenance,  despite  the  rather  severe  but  at  the 
same  time  complimentary  criticism  on  America ; 
thouf!h  Ave  tliou<i;ht  the  renowned  traveler  was  evi- 
dently  falling  into  the  loquacity  commonly  incident  to 
old  age.  Bishop  Otey  requested  tlie  honor  of  his 
autograph,  which  he  very  readily  granted.  It  ran 
thus — "Baron  Von  Ilumboldt,  83  years  old,"  and  was 
•written  in  a  bold  and  steady  hand  for  so  old  a  man. 
We  parted,  much  pleased  with  this  author  of  world- 
wide fame — this  grave  philosopher  and  gentle  old 
man — whom  the  nations  of  the  earth  admire  and 
praise,  and  whom  everybody  loves  and  venerates. 

"We  now  drove  to  the  gardens  of  Charlottenhof, 
where  there  is  a  villa  of  the  present  King,  built  in 
the  same  style  with  the  houses  of  Pompeii.  The 
grounds  are  beautifully  laid  out,  and  abound  with 
every  variety  of  shrub  and  flower.  Next  we  went  to 
the  gardens  and  Palace  of  "  Sans  Souci,"  lavishly 
ornamented  Avith  marble  statues,  fountains,  obelisks, 
etc.  Tiie  Palace  is  situated  on  the  summit  of  a  flight 
of  terraces,  to  which  we  sought  admission ;  but  as 
the  King  was  hourly  expected  we  were  not  permitted 
to  enter.  Saw  the  spot  where  the  favorite  dogs  and 
war-steed  of  tlie  eccentric  Emperor  Frederick  the 
Great  were  buried  ;  and  also  had  the  famous  wind- 
mill of  historic  note  pointed  out.  On  our  return  to 
the   railway  station  we  just   missed  a  sight  of  the 


134  Memoeif.s   over  the  Water. 

King,  who  had  been  out  to  a  review  of  twenty  thou- 
sand of  his  troops.  "We  saw,  however,  his  youngest 
brother  and  stafi',  mounted  on  horses.  The  Prince 
was  dressed  in  a  neat-fitting  uniform  of  blue,  and  sat 
on  his  horse  with  much  grace.  We  met  also  a  large 
detachment  of  cavalry  returning  from  the  field,  and 
returned  to  Berlin  in  the  same  train  with  the  Com- 
mander-in-chief of  the  •Prussian  army. 


f 


CIIAPTEU    XX. 


On  the  night  of  the  23d  of  September,  we  went  to 
the  opera  with  the  expectation  of  seeing  the  King  and 
Qneen  of  Prussia,  having  understood  that  it  was  the 
intention  of  their  majesties  to  be  there  on  that  occasion. 
Ill  tills,  however,  we  were  disappointed.  The  Opera 
House  at  Berlin  is  an  exceedingly  handsome  edifice, 
surpassing,  in  point  of  convenience  and  beauty,  any- 
thing of  the  kind  that  we  had,  as  yet,  seen.  The 
orchestra  was  very  numerous,  and  composed  of  the 
first  talent  in  the  country.  The  audience  was,  by  fiir, 
the  most  brilliant  we  had  ever  seen,  being  thickly 
interspersed  with  the  rich  uniforms  of  the  officers  of 
rank  in  the  Prussian  army. 

On  the  following  morning  we  went  to  the  City 
Hospital,  in  order  to  see  the  method  of  instructing 
the  Cretins.  But  the  school-hours  having  been  con- 
cluded we  did  not  care  to  be  admitted,  especially  as 
the  privilege  seemed  to  be  reluctantly  granted.  This 
establishment  is  here  carried  out  on  a  very  extensive 
scale,  and  with  thorough  treatment.  The  building  is 
a  large  and  handsome  structure.  While  we  were  at 
the  main  entrance  they  brought  one  of  those  unfor- 
tunate creatures  to  become  an  inmate,  who  was  moan- 

(135  ) 


136  Memokiks  over  the  Water, 

ing  and  gibbering  in  liis  idiotic  suffering  ;  his  mind 
a  perfect  blank,  devoid  of  life,  of  light,  of  reason, 
or  of  hope. 

We  now  visited  the  cabinet  of  curiosities  in  the 
Royal  Palace,  where  you  are  shown  relics  innumer- 
able of  Frederick  the  Great ;  some  of  which  are  of 
rather  a  disgusting  nature ;  for  such  is  the  devotion 
of  the  Prussian  people  to  the  memory  of  their  wamor- 
king,  that  they  have  preserved,  as  sacred  State  treas- 
ures, the  garments  that  he  wore,  and  the  handkerchief 
that  he  used,  during  his  last  illness.  The  Bishop 
struck  up  a  few  notes  on  the  flute,  the  same  which 
his  highness  was  wont  to  play,  beguiling  with  music's 
holy  flow  the  cares  that  line  the  royal  brow.  As  we 
were  not  much  of  an  advocate  for  man-worship,  we 
did  not  linger  here  long. 

On  our  return  toward  the  hotel,  lo !  the  royal  car- 
riage came  rattling,  at  a  rapid  rate,  down  the  "Unter- 
den-Linden,"  drawn  by  four  spanking  blacks.  The 
top  was  tlirowu  back,  and  seated  there  were  four  gen- 
tlemen— among  them  the  King,  conspicuous  by  a 
tall  bonnet,  with  a  red  badge  dangling  from  its  top. 
We  turned  back  to  the  museum,  and  had  a  fair  view 
of  his  majesty,  as  he  alighted  from  the  carriage.  He 
was  dressed  in  a  handsome  military  suit,  and  seemed 
to  us  quite  a  dignified,  good-looking  gentleman ;  his 
manner  appearing  plain  and  unassuming  before  the 
eyes  of  his  people.  His  equipage  was  by  no  means 
gaudy,  but  neat  and  elegant,  lie  looked  to  be  a 
man  of  about  forty  years  of  age,  but  the  locks  of  gray 


Memories  over  the  WATKit.  137 

that  shone  in  his  dark  hair  seemed  to  speak  of  early 
dissipation.  The  Trincc  of  Bavaria  was  with  the 
Kin<>-.  having  come  from  his  own  reahns  on  a  visit  to 
his  royal  Iriend.  As  we  again  turned  homeward  we 
encountered  the  carriage  of  the  Queen,  drawn  by  six 
grays,  and  preceded  by  two  outriders,  mounted  on 
horses  likewise  gray.  "We  were  favored  with  a  lair 
view  of  the  Queen,  and  also  of  the  Princess  of 
Bavaria,  who  sat  by  her  side. 

At  Berlin  our  traveling  party  was  broken  up.  On 
the  morning  of  the  26th,  Bishop  Otey,  Mrs.  Eakin, 
Miss  Boss,  with  little  "Willie,  left  Berlin  in  the  six 
o'clock  A.  Ji.  train,  bound  direct  for  Paris.  At  seven 
o'clock  A.  M.,  of  the  same  day,  Fogg  and  ourself  took 
the  cars  and  started  Southward  toward  the  Saxon 
capital.  The  journey  was  made,  for  the  most  part, 
over  a  flat  and  uninteresting  country,  with  nothing  to 
break  its  dead  monotony,  save  the  venerable  old 
windmills,  with  their  long  arms  whirling  in  tlie  air. 
To  add  to  the  discomforts  of  the  day,  a  cold  and 
driving  shower  commenced  falling,  compelling  us  to 
sliut  down  the  windows  of  the  car,  and  thereby  sub- 
jecting ourselves  to  the  suflbcating  fumes  of  the  Ger- 
man smokers,  who  plied  their  numberless  cigars  and 
incessant  jargon,  enough  to  craze  any  man  of  ordi- 
nary powers  of  endurance.  But  on  leaving  Riesa, 
about  twenty  miles  from  Dresden,  the  whole  aspect 
of  nature  changed.  The  heavens  became  clear  and 
cloudless,  the  sun  shone  cheerily  down,  and  instead 
of  the   bleak   waste  of  barren   plain,   the   eye   now 


138  Memories  over  the  "Water. 

brightened  over  a  lovely  landscape,  pleasantl}''  diver- 
sified by  neat  villages,  vine-clad-hills  and  white 
chateans.  On  our  left  the  sails  of  the  river-craft 
were  glittering  in  the  rays  of  the  sun,  as  they  moved 
lazily  over  the  bosom  of  the  muddy  Elbe,  down 
whose  valley  we  were  speeding.  But  away  we  dash, 
the  hoofs  of  our  iron  steed  rin^-ino;  on  the  rail,  and 
soon  the  four  tall  spires  of  Dresden  town  are  seen 
pointing  high  into  the  blue  concave  of  heaven.  At 
half-past  twelve  we  were  deposited  at  the  station,  and 
thence  we  drove  immediately  to  the  "Hotel  de 
France,"  crossing  over  the  Elbe  into  Dresden  proper, 
by  a  fine,  substantial  bridge.  Dined  at  one  o'clock, 
and  immediately  after  visited  the  celebrated  gallery  of 
paintings,  ranking  above  the  collections  of  both  Berlin 
and  Munich,  inasmuch  as  these  apartments  contain 
many  rare  productions  of  "the  old  masters,"  with 
other  works  of  "  vertu."  Within  a  series  of  outward 
rooms  there  is  also  an  interior  gallery,  containing  a 
rare  and  costly  collection.  Having  at  last  concluded 
our  survey  we  next  strolled  over  the  town.  The 
streets  we  found  narrow  and  dirty,  and  the  houses 
high  and  dingy,  like  the  smoky  buildings  of  London. 
In  our  peregrination  we  ascended  the  "Terrace," 
overhanging  the  river  Elbe,  and  found  it  to  be  a 
favorite  evening  resort  for  the  citizens  of  both  sexes. 
Entered  a  beautiful  little  temple  overlooking  the  river, 
which  combined,  witliin  itself,  both  coffee-house  and 
concert  room.  Here  the  citizen,  whose  leisure  may 
admit,  may  sit  and  si])  his  coffee,  and  at  the  same 


Memories  over  the  Water.  139 

time  list  to  the  strains  of  music.  Nurses,  with  bevies 
of  flaxen-haired  children,  ramble  about  under  the 
thick  shade  of  the  trees  without,  and  all  is  one  ani- 
mated scene  of  happiness  and  content. 

Next  we  went  to  the  theater,  a  very  handsome 
stone  building  of  circular  form,  situated  just  on  tlie 
right  as  you  cross  the  stone  bridge  into  Dresden. 
Wo  entered  the  parterre  of  this  fashionable  temple  of 
Thespis,  and  found  the  audience  full,  and  fair  looking 
in  the  main.  But  the  performance  was  in  German, 
and  so  not  comprehending  the  wit  of  the  comedy,  (at 
which,  however,  those  about  us  seemed  provokingly 
pleased,)  we  were  quite  rejoiced  when  the  unintel- 
ligible jargon  was  concluded,  and  the  curtain  fell. 
We  now  sought  our  hotel  through  the  busy  unknown 
streets,  and  thus  closed  our  first  day  in  the  capital  of 
Saxony. 


CHAPTER    XXI 


"While  in   Dresden  we  desired  very  much  to  see 
the  famous  "  Green  Vault,"  where  the  State  jewels 
are   kept,  but  the  limited  number  of  tickets  having 
been  already  issued  for  that  day,  we  could  not  gain 
admission.    "We  visited  however   the  fine  establish- 
ment of  porcelain -ware,  and  then  crossing  over  the 
bridge  we  strolled  over  the  greater  portion  of  Dres- 
den lying  beyond  the  river.     Returning  to  the  hotel, 
we  paid  up  our  bills,  changed  our  loose  money  from 
the   Prussian  to    the   Austrian   currency,  (making  a 
considerable  profit  by  the  discount  of  the  latter,)  took 
a  cab,  and  started  again  for  the  railway  depot.     At 
a  quarter  past  one  o'clock,  p.  m.,  we  were  on  our  way 
to  Prague.     The  scenery  was  exceedingly  beautiful, 
as  we  skirted  along  the  right  bank  of  the  river  Elbe, 
whose  winding  course  we  followed  for  many  hours. 
As  we  dashed  on   the  delighted  eye  danced  merrily 
over  the  high  conical  rocks,  craggy  blufl's,  and  white- 
walled   towns  of  this  "  Saxon   Switzerland."     Occa- 
sionally a  lonely  cross,  or  moldering  tower,  perched 
high   up  on   the  dreamy  old   hills,  would   come  and 
vanish   before   our  gaze,  as  we   sped  along  the  deep 
and  narrow  valley.     About  dusk  we  reached  a  small 

(  140  ) 


Memokii-js  uvkk  tiik  Watku.  141 

village,  whose  immu  wc  do  not  rciiifiiilH']',  Imt  wlierc 
tliu  valley  suddenly  spreads  out  into  a  broad  and 
level  basin.  Here  the  lamps  in  our  cars  were  lighted 
to  dispel  the  darkness  of  night,  which  was  drawing 
rapidly  on. 

On  our  way  down  from  Dresden  to  Prague  we 
struck  up  an  acquaintance  with  a  young  officer  of 
the  Austrian  Army,  who,  having  resided  for  several 
years  in  England,  was  perfectly  conversant  with  the 
language  of  that  country,  and  having  discovered  that 
we  were  from  the  distant  shores  of  America,  he 
seemed  disposed  to  make  some  use  of  his  accom- 
plishment. "We  accordingly  entered  into  conversa- 
tion, by  which  we  casually  learned  that  he  had  been 
engaged  in  the  Hungarian  struggle,  which  led  us  to 
make  some  inquiries  relative  to  the  war.  We  found 
him,  however,  not  at  all  willing  to  speak  on  the  sub- 
ject, inasmuch  as  the  government  regarded  all  those 
found  conversing  thereon  among  the  suspicious  and 
the  disafi'ected.  lie  advised  us  moreover,  so  long  as 
we  were  in  the  Austrian  dominions,  neither  to  speak 
of  Hungary,  nor  even  to  mention  the  name  of  Kos- 
suth or  of  any  other  Hungarian  refugee  ;  for  that  we 
would  thereby  excite  the  distrust  of  the  national 
police,  and  probabl}'  subject  ourselves  to  imprison- 
ment. He  denounced  Kossuth  as  more  an  agitator 
than  a  patriot — more  an  orator  than  a  soldier.  He 
was  very  minute  in  his  inquiries  relative  to  slavery 
in  America,  and  could  not  understand  how  we,  pro- 
fessing so  much  sympathy  for  the  nations  of  Europe, 


142  Memories   over  the  Water. 

who  were  struggling  i'or  their  livcdoui,  should  yet 
hold  millions  in  absolute  subjection  in  our  own  land. 
Neither  could  we  convince  him  that  it  was  more  a 
case  of  necessity  than  of  option.  But  we  found  that, 
in  Austria,  to  canvass  the  acts  of  government  was 
among  the  number  of  unpardonable  sins,  and  all  tliat 
the  subject  is  required  to  do  is — to  be  mum  and  obey. 
Liberty  of  speech  seemed  especially  prohibited,  and 
it  was  most  strange  to  us  that  where  such  restrictions 
were  imposed,  the  citizens  should  remain  so  quiet 
and  apparently  content. 

We  reached  Prague  about  twenty  minutes  past 
nine,  and  after  passport  and  baggage  were  examined, 
we  took  a  carriage  for  the  "Blue  Star."  Ko  rooms 
were  vacant,  and  so  we  drove  to  the  "  Golden  Angel," 
who  sheltered  us  beneath  its  wings  for  the  night. 
But  on  the  following  morning  we  became  satisfied 
that  we  were  not  possessed  of  such  angelic  accommo- 
dations as  we  had  been  led  to  expect,  and  so  calling 
up  the  "garcon,"  we  had  accounts  forthwith  squared; 
and  again  marched  over  to  the  "Blue  Star,"  which 
we  now  found  more  propitious  than  on  the  past  even- 
ing. Breakfast  over,  we  next  repaired  to  the  "  Hotel 
D'Angleterre,"  where  we  found  several  gentlemen, 
whose  acquaintance  we  had  previously  formed  by 
contact  in  our  line  of  travel — among  the  number 
were  Col.  Wm.  Hart,  Kentucky,  and  Lieutenants 
Boudinot,  Bent  and  Gwathmey,  of  the  U.  S.  Kavy, 
With  them  we  started  out  on  an  indefinite  stroll  over 
the   city.     First   we   took    up    the   handsome   street, 


Memokiks  ovi:ii  the  Watek.  143 

whereon  the'^lJlue  Star"  is  situated,  iim I  a i'ur  pro- 
ceeding: several  liiiiRlrcd  yards,  we  turned  uij  to  the 
lelV,  following  a  very  broad  and  liaudsomc  thorough- 
fare, whereon  we  Ibund  several  fountains  and  statues 
ornamenting  its  center.  This  street  is  abruptly  ter- 
minated by  the  fortiiications  of  the  city.  Mounting 
on  the  high  walls  we  bore  off  to  the  right,  making  a 
semicircle  to  the  banks  of  the  rapid  Moldau,  which 
divides  in  twain  the  old  city  of  Prague.  Keeping 
down  the  river  we  erelong  came  to  the  monument  of 
the  late  Emperor  Francis.  This  bronze  equestrian 
statue  stands  within  a  beautiful  gothic  tower,  and 
encircling  the  base  of  the  pedestal  are  various  alle- 
gorical figures,  representing  the  different  callings  of 
the  Bohemian  people.  Turning  back  a  few  paces  we 
crossed  over  the  Moldau,  which  is  here  a  broad  and 
shallow  stream.  The  suspension  bridge  is  a  long 
and  substantial  structure,  being  supported  in  the 
center  by  a  stone  pillar,  resting  on  a  small  island  in 
the  middle  of  the  stream.  In  the  meanwhile,  how- 
ever, we  had  lost  siglit  of  Boudinot  and  Gwathmey, 
and  so  the  remainder  of  our  party,  numbering  four 
engaged  a  carriage  and  ascended  to  the  "IL-adschin" 
—  the  place  of  the  old  Bohemian  Kings.  On  the 
ascent  our  attention  was  drawn  to  many  queer  old 
buildings,  with  gigantic  statues  standing  on  each 
Bide  of  the  doorway,  and  represented  as  supporting 
the  massive  masonry  on  their  bare  and  brawny 
shoulders.  A  heavy  Irown  generally  lowers  upon 
their   brows,  as   though  a  sullen   and  angry  feeling 


144  Memories  over  the  Water. 

possessed  their  hearts,  that  they  should  be  compelled 
perpetually  to  bear  so  weighty  a  burden.  Reaching 
the  "  Hradshin  "  we  were  first  shown  into  the  room, 
where  the  Bohemian  emperors  were  crowned.  It  is 
a  handsome  apartment  only,  with  none  of  that  splen- 
dor which  is  seen  in  the  palaces  of  Paris,  Munich, 
Berlin,  etc.  Next  we  entered  "the  green  room," 
and  saw  the  window  through  which  the  two  unpop- 
ular nobles  Slawata  and  Martinitz,  with  their  Secre- 
tary, Fabricius,  were  ejected  after  the  "Bohemian 
style."  One  of  these,  it  is  said,  on  falling  upon  the 
head  of  a  peasant  passing  by,  got  up  and  politely 
begged  pardon  for  his  unceremonious  descent.  From 
this  same  old  window  we  looked  out  upon  one  of  the 
finest  views  we  ever  beheld.  The  white-walled  city 
of  Prague,  containing  one  hundred  and  twenty  thou- 
sand souls,  lay  snugly  at  rest  in  a  circular  vallej^, 
with  the  sleepy  old  hills  rising  gradually  up  on  every 
side,  and  stretching  their  sunny  summits  far  away 
in  the  distance.  Receding  on  either  side  of  the 
river  bank  rose,  tier,  by  tier,  the  handsome  white 
buildings,  all  reposing  in  pensive  slumbers  —  all 
bathed  in  golden  sunshine — all  blushing  in  autum- 
nal beauty. 

We  now  turned  to  visit  the  old  Cathedral,  rich  in 
gotliic  ornament,  and  moss-grown  and  dim  with  age. 
We  looked  with  reverence  on  turret  and  spire  of 
that  venerable  old  pile,  and  thought  how  great  the 
sacrilege  that  the  Emperor  Frederick  should  have 
made  that  ancient  churcli  the  target  for  his  artillery. 


Memories   over  the  Water.  145 

The  interior  of  the  l»nildiii2:  still  retains  somethinir 
of  its  former  beauty  and  magnificence.  In  the  body 
of  the  church  stands  the  Imperial  Mausoleum,  erected 
by  lludolf  the  2d,  as  the  receptacle  for  his  own 
body  after  death.  The  Shrine  of  St.  John  Nepomuk 
displays  an  immense  profusion  of  silver,  and  is  con- 
sidered one  of  the  richest  in  the  world.  The  ever- 
burning lamps  hang  above  the  coffin  of  the  saint, 
which  is  represented  as  borne  aloft  by  four  winged 
angels,  the  size  of  life  and  of  unadulterated  silver. 
Among  the  relics  contained  in  this  church  are  said 
to  be — "portions  of  the  bones  of  Abraham,  Isaac  and 
Jacob  ;  the  pocket-handkerchief  of  the  Virgin  Mary  ; 
a  piece  of  the  true  cross,  inclosing  a  bit  of  the  sponge, 
which  was  placed  on  a  hyssop ;  two  thorns  of  the 
crown  of  thorns ;  one  of  the  palm  branches  that  were 
strewed  in  our  Saviour's  way,  with  an  immense 
number  of  similar  curiosities,  equally  authentic  and 
valualile." 
12 


CHAPTER    XXII. 


On  our  descent  from  the  "  Ilradsliin"  we  crossed 
over  the  Moldau  by  the  massive  old  stone  bridge, 
which  measures  one  thousand  seven  hundred  and 
ninety  feet  in  length,  and  is  ornamented  on  either 
side  with  twenty-eight  statues  of  various  saints. 
Many  of  these  figures,  however,  have  been  disman- 
tled— some  of  the  uplifted  arm,  some  of  the  reverend 
head,  and  some  otherwise  disfigured  by  "the  accident 
of  flood  and  field." 

Having  dined  at  the  "  Blue  Star,"  we  next  visited 
the  Jewish  synagogue  and  cemetery,  which  we  found 
situated  in  a  difierent  part  of  the  city,  thickly  crowded 
with  houses,  and  densely  populated  with  the  dark- 
eyed  sons  of  Judah.  Their  place  of  worship  was 
built  under-ground,  and  service  was  being  performed 
when  we  arrived.  As  we  descended  into  this  gloomy, 
dungeon-like  synagogue,  we  intuitively  pulled  off  our 
hat,  but  immediately  replaced  it  at  the  request  of  one 
of  tlie  congregation,  all  of  whom,  we  observed,  had 
their  heads  covered.  The  venerable  old  priest  was 
engaged  in  the  performance  of  the  ancient  rites  of  the 
Hebrew  worship ;  and  as  we  gazed  around  on  those 

dark  and  swarthy  faces,  in  the  dim  light  of  the  dnst- 
(\4G) 


Memokies   over  TriE  Waticu.  147 

covered  room,  we  could  but  feel  a  compassionate 
regard  for  that  unhappy  race,  who  thus  clung  to  the 
wayward  faith  of  their  fathers,  denying  the  Saviour 
of  the  world,  and  still  anticipating  the  advent  of  their 
Messiah.  As  we  advanced  toward  the  altar,  the 
con^-recation,  observing  that  we  were  strangers,  would 
politely  give  way,  that  we  might  draw  as  near  as  we 
wished.  Through  a  few  narrow,  loophole  windows, 
we  looked  into  an  adjoining  apartment,  and  there  saw 
the  female  audience  assembled,  no  woman  being 
allowed  the  privilege  of  the  sanctuary.  "We  looked 
with  great  interest  on  the  worship  of  these  children 
of  Israel,  and  only  left  when  hurried  away  by  our 
companions  to  visit  the  burying-grounds  above. 
This  ancient  resting-place  of  the  Jewish  dead  presents 
a  most  lonely  and  singular  appearance,  with  its  gray 
old  tombstones  falling  to  decay,  and  thickly  over- 
grown with  a  dense  underwood  of  the  gnarled  and 
twisted  elders.  As  we  left  this  cm-ions  city  of  the 
dead,  the  dark  shadows  of  night  were  gathering  about 
the  desolate  graves,  and  the  melancholy  cricket  was 
chirping  his  evening  song  beneath  the  matted  grass. 

On  the  following  morning  we  were  aroused  accord- 
ing  to  order,  about  four  o'clock,  and  having  dressed, 
taken  a  cup  of  cofiee,  paid  up  our  bills,  and  bade 
adieu  to  our  accomplished  landlord,  we  started  off 
a-foot,  with  "garcon"  bearing  our  luggage  in  the  van, 
leading  the  way  toward  the  railway  station.  Bag- 
gage deposited,  tickets  secured,  and  "  boots"  having 
received  his  tarewcU  bonus,  for  which  ho  wished  us 


148  Memories  oyer  the  Water. 

the  usual  "bon  voyage,"  we  were  soon  moving 
toward  the  Austrian  capital.  The  entire  route  was 
one  of  charming  beauty  and  varied  interest.  Now 
we  were  dashing  along  by  gently  rolling  meadows,  in 
their  mantle  of  waning  green ;  now  winding  along 
the  tortuous  course  of  some  brawling  mountain 
stream ;  and  now  shooting  through  a  succession  of 
dark  tunnels,  hewn  out  of  the  living  rock.  About 
four  o'clock,  p.  M.,  we  reached  the  city  of  Brunn,  not 
far  from  which  was  fought  the  battle  of  Austerlitz. 
Here  we  chan2;ed  our  indifferent  cars  and  slow- 
moving  train  for  most  excellent  carriages  and  winged 
engine,  and  went  rushing  on  toward  the  city  of 
Yienna.  Out  on  our  left  arose  the  dark  and  wooded 
heights  of  the  Carpathian  mountains,  while  on  our 
right  slowly  sank  the  setting  sun,  shedding  its  light 
and  mellow  rays  o'er  the  auburn  hills,  the  deep-blue 
mountains,  and  numerous  tidy,  white-walled  towns. 
In  our  route  we  passed  through  a  portion  of  Hungary, 
whose  late  struggle  against  the  Austrian  dynasty 
created  such  a  sympathetic  commotion  in  the  hearts 
of  our  own  countrymen.  When  a  few  miles  from 
Vienna,  we  crossed  over  the  Danube,  and  soon  after 
entered  the  Paris  of  Austria,  containing  a  population 
of  four  hundred  thousand ;  the  same  number  as  the 
capital  of  Prussia.  From  current  accounts,  we  had 
anticipated  here  a  very  rigorous  examination  of  pass- 
port and  baggage,  and  had  prepared  ourself  quietly 
to  submit  to  whatever  annoyance  the  city  police 
might  impose.     We  were,  however,  agreeably  sur- 


Memories   oveu  the  "Watek.  149 

])riscd  to  find  the  ofiiccrs  extremely  courteous,  and  \>y 
no  means  so  suspicious  of  onr  purposes  as  we  hud 
been  led  to  suppose.  Only  a  cursory  glance  was 
civen  to  our  accouterments,  and  we  were  suffered  to 

try  ' 

proceed.  Getting  into  a  cab,  we  sung  out — "Hotel 
Munsch;"  when  our  driver  sprang  to  his  scat,  gave 
his  good  steed  the  word,  dashed  away  through  the 
devious  streets,  and  soon  drew  rein  in  the  courtyard 
of  the  hotel  designated.  And  thus  were  a  couple  of 
"modern  travelers"  safely  deposited  in  the  city  of 
Vienna — having,  in  the  course  of  one  month,  trav- 
ersed tiiousands  of  miles,  and  looked  on  more  than  it 
usually  falls  to  the  lot  of  man  to  see  in  a  lifetime — 
nor  yet  undergone  that  singular  metamorphose  from 
the  plain  and  unassuming  citizen  to  the  nondescript 
animal,  which  has  been  represented  as  "  lisping 
broken  English,"  with  heels  full  of  polka  and  head 
full  of  nonsense,  an  abomination  unto  men,  but  an 
Adonis  unto  ladies. 


CHAPTER    XXIII 


On  our  arrival  at  the  city  of  Vienna,  our  first  pro- 
ceeding, on  the  following  day,  was  to  climb  the  lofty 
steeple  of  the  Cathedral  of  St.  Stephen,  from  whose 
summit  we  had  a  splendid  panoramic  view  of  the  ele- 
gant city  and  its  handsome  environs.     While  on  our 
way  to  the  cathedral,  we  saw  what  our  guide-books 
called,  "  the  tree  of  iron,"     This  memento  of  the  past 
is  nothing  more  than  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  about  six  feet 
in  length,  and  posted  on  one  of  the  public  corners  of 
the  city.     Its  entire  exterior  surface  is  covered  with 
the  heads  of  iron  spikes,  driven  in  by  the  wandering 
apprentices   of  Vienna.     It   seems   that   it   was   the 
custom   of   those   mechanics,   who,    when   they   had 
served  out  tlie  term  of  their  apprenticeship,  sought 
their  fortunes  in  a  distant  land,  first  to  repair  to  this 
"  iron  tree,"  and  drive  therein  a  nail.     When  we  saw 
this  ancient  trunk  it  looked  like  some  venerable  old 
warrior,  clad  "cap-a-pie"  in  his  coat  of  mail,  and  even 
more  impervious  than  the  Grecian  hero,  whose  unfor- 
tunate heel  was  left  sticking  out  when  his  mother, 
Thetis,  plunged  him  into  the  river  Styx. 

But  arriving  at  the  Cathedral,  we  began  the  ascent 

of  its  sky-piercing  tower,  which  is  said   to    be    four 
(1 50 )        ' 


Memories  over  the  "Water.  151 

hundred  and  sixty-five  feet  in  height.  On  a  clear  day 
the  scope  of  the  horizon,  from  this  elevated  point, 
extends  not  only  over  the  city  and  its  suburbs,  but 
embraces  in  its  wide  compass  the  battle-fields  of 
Lobau,  Wagram,  Asperne,  and  Essling,  where  clashed 
the  contending  armies  of  France  and  the  Allied 
Powers,  during  the  bloody  exhibition  of  the  Napo- 
leonic drama.  Ilulf  way  up  the  tower  is  the  station 
of  the  city  fire- watch,  from  which  the  sleepless  sentinel 
looks  out  over  the  city,  and  whence  the  Count  Stahrem- 
berg  was  wont,  with  liis  field-glass,  to  reconnoiter  the 
camp  of  the  besieging  Turks,  until  from  the  height  of 
the  Kahlenberg,  the  christian  banner  was  unfurled  by 
John  Sobieski,  bringing  welcome  deliverance  to  the 
beleaguered  city.  The  spire  of  St.  Stephen  stands  a 
lofty  guide  to  the  bewildered  stranger  in  Vienna.  It 
is  the  central  focus  point  of  this  circular  city,  whence 
the  streets  radiate  like  the  fibers  of  the  spider's  web. 
Descending  from  the  tower  we  next  visited  the 
Imperial  Arsenal,  where  is  an  unnumbered  collection 
of  all  manner  of  arms,  so  arranged  as  to  beautify  and 
adorn  the  long  galleries,  and  yet  ready  for  service  o,t 
a  moment's  warning.  This  magazine  of  military 
stores  far  surpasses,  in  extent,  the  armory  in  the  tower 
of  London.  "We  saw  here  many  ancient  relics,  such 
as  banners,  and  suits  of  armor  that  were  once  worn 
by  illustrious  persons.  Among  them  was  the  bull- 
coat  of  Gustavus  Adolphus,  pierced  by  the  bullet 
which  caused  his  death  at  the  battle  of  Lutzen.  Unfor- 
tunately the  hole  ?s  in  the  haclc  of  the  cuat.     Leav- 


152  Memories  oyer  the  Water. 

ing  this  unlucky  memento  of  the  King  we  came  to  an 
immense  pile  of  rusty  muskets,  taken  up  from  the 
battle-fields  of  the  late  IIun2;arian  war.  AYe  were 
told  by  the  guide  that  many  of  them  were  still  loaded . 
With  this  we  concluded  our  visit,  and  thence  strolled 
out  upon  the  broad  open  space,  which  extends  like  a 
band  about  the  interior  city,  and  called  by  the  citi- 
zens the  "  Glacis."  It  serves  as  a  handsome  park 
and  promenade,  and  has  been  aptly  termed  "the 
lungs  of  Vienna."  Thence  we  proceeded  to  the 
"  Yolks-garten " — the  evening  resort  of  the  city  — 
and  saw  there  the  colossal  group  of  Theseus  killing 
the  Centaur,  by  the  hand  of  the  immortal  Canova. 
This  much-admired  sculpture  is  placed  in  a  small 
temple,  erected  exclusively  for  its  reception,  and  into 
which  we  were  admitted,  by  slipping  a  few  kreutzers 
into  the  willing  hand  of  the  guard,  who  kept  the 
key  of  the  building.  The  execution  of  this  work  is 
very  fine ;  the  eflect  striking  and  impressive.  Theseus 
is  represented  with  his  left  knee  planted  against  the 
breast  of  the  exhausted  Centaur,  his  left-hand  grasp- 
ing the  neck,  while  in  his  right  he  brandishes  a  club. 
The  muscles  of  the  body  are  all  beautifully  developed, 
and  the  proportions  combine  strength  with  activity  of 
limb.  On  the  brow  of  the  Athenian  hero  is  written 
vengeance  and  undaunted  courage. 

At  7  o'clock  wc  repaired  to  the  opera,  and  wit- 
nessed the  performance  of  "Robert  Le  Diable."  The 
fine  music  wc  could,  of  course,  enjoy,  but  only 
regretted  tliat  we  could  not  understand  the  words ;  the 


Memories  oveu  the  Water.  153 

opera  being  originally  French,  but  translated  into  the 
German.  The  audience  was  full ;  the  music  superb  ; 
the  dancing  delightful,  and  the  scenic  effect,  at  the 
opening  of  the  ballet,  beautiful  beyond  conception. 
In  the  scene  just  preceding  the  ballet  you  look  upon 
the  lonely  graveyard,  the  white  tombstones  glimmer- 
ing in  the  pale  rays  of  the  moon,  and  a  death-like 
stillness  prevailing  over  the  soft-winged  hours  of 
night.  But  as  you  gaze  upon  the  dreamy  solitude, 
a  tall  and  stately  figure,  robed  in  a  garment  of  white, 
with  slow  and  solemn  step  approaches  the  dwelling 
place  of  the  dead.  Ko  murmur  escapes  his  lips;  no 
sound  from  the  measured  footfall  strikes  upon  the  ear. 
Pausing  now  he  waves  his  long  and  slender  wand 

O  CD 

above  the  cold,  gray  tombs,  and  lo  !  their  marble  lids 

are  lifted  up,  and  the  very  blood  within  your  veins 

seems  freezing  round  the  heart,  as  the  pale  forms  of 

the  shrouded  dead  rise,  with  a  cold  and  fixed  gaze, 

upon   their   feet.      But  just   here   a  loud    crash   of 

music  breaks  upon  the  ear,  the  glittering  lamps  throw 

a  flood  of  light  upon  the  stage,  and  dashing  aside  the 

vesture  of  the  grave,  about  forty  beautiful  girls,  like 

a  trooping  band  of  angels,  flash  upon  your  sight,  and 

float  gayly  through  the  dance.     At  the  conclusion,  the 

devil,  disappointed  in  obtaining  his  victim,  suddenly 

descends  into  the  infernal  regions,  amid  the  flashing 

of  unearthly  flames ;  and  the  woman,  his  guardian 

angel,  and  apparently  the  queen  of  his  heart,  leads 

him  triumphantly  away  to  have  their  happy  nuptials 

celebrated  in  the  presence  of  the  King  and  Queen. 
13 


154  Memories   over  the  Water. 

On  the  following  day  we  went  to  see  the  Imperial 
Picture  Gallery,  called  the  "Belvidere,"  The  situa- 
tion of  this  beautiful  edifice  is  very  fine,  commanding 
an  excellent  view  of  Vienna.  The  grounds  arc  well 
laid  ofi'and  abound  in  flowers,  fountains  and  statuary. 
The  collection  of  paintings  in  the  palace  is  very  exten- 
sive, and  some  of  the  sculpture  exquisitely  beautiful. 
Especially  chaste  and  pure  was  the  gi'oup  of  "Isaac 
and  Rebecca,"  and  also  the  figure  of  "Morning," 
coming  from  the  east  with  her  long  and  flowing  mantle, 
the  star  upon  her  forehead,  and  the  bough  within  her 
hand.  Eeturned  to  the  hotel,  and  after  dinner  we 
strolled  around  the  city,  along  by  the  high  and  frown- 
ing ramparts,  whose  bastion  and  redoubt  arc  planted 
with  cannon  and  guarded  by  soldiery. 


CHAPTER    XXIV 


While  in  Yieuna  we  called  upou  our  Minister, 
Mr.  McCurdy,  of  Connecticut,  and  were  hospitably 
received  by  himself,  his  fair  daughter,  and  his  secre- 
tary. On  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  we  took  our 
seat  in  an  omnibus  at  the  door  of  our  hotel,  and 
visited  the  palace  of  Schonbrunn,  the  summer  resi- 
dence of  the  Emperor,  situated  about  two  miles  fi-om 
the  city.  Here  Napoleon  made  his  quarters  in  1809 ; 
and  here  his  son,  the  Duke  of  Eeichstadt,  died,  in 
IS 32,  at  the  age  of  twenty-one,  and  in  the  same  room 
and  in  the  same  bed,  it  is  said,  that  his  father  had 
occupied.  The  gardens  are  most  magnificently  laid 
ofi",  and  elegantly  adorned  with  the  greatest  profusion 
of  statuary,  and  a  number  of  splendid  fountains,  fish- 
ponds, and  waterfalls.  It  was  in  these  gardens  that 
the  German  student  Stapps,  attempted  the  life  of 
Napoleon,  while  strolling  through  the  grounds,  and 
for  his  temerity  was  shot  down  and  buried  on  the 
spot.  Just  on  the  summit  of  the  rising  ground  in 
the  rear  of  the  Palace,  and  overlooking  the  beautiful 
grounds  below,  is  situated  the  "Gloriettc,"  a  hand- 
some structure,  built  in  the  style  of  a  triumphal 
arch.     From  the  summit  of  this  monument  we  had  a 

(155) 


156  Mehokies   over  the  Water. 

charming  view  of  Vienna  and  the  adjacent  country. 
Leaving  Sclioubrunn  we  now  strolled  down  to  the 
villao-e  of  Ilitzing,  and  rested  at  the  "Casino  Dom- 
maycr,"    where    the    ruralizing   Viennese    come    to 
breathe  the  country  air,  and  while  they  sip  their  ices 
and  coffee,  to  list  to  the  enchanting  strains  of  Strauss' 
Band,  which  here,  about  the  hour  of  sunset,  discourse 
their  inspiring  music.     Before  leaving  Vienna  we  had 
visited  everything  that  was  worthy  of  note,  among 
other  things    the   Cabinet  of  Antiquities,   and  the 
Church  of  San  Augustine,  famous  for  its  celebrated 
mourning    group    at    the    sepulcher    of    Christina. 
Prominent  among  our  recollections  of  Vienna  was 
the  kind  and  civil  conduct  of  our  gentlemanly  land- 
lord, Mr.  Munsch,  and  the  cool  and  impudent  bearing 
of  the  rascally  commissioner  of  the  hotel.     Each  and 
every  traveler  who  comes  in  contact  with  this  mealy- 
mouthed  valet,  votes  him  without  exception  the  vilest 
and  most  deceitful  dog  that  goes  unhung.     As  for 
ourself,  we  may  well  say  that  we  left  the  fair  city  of 
Vienna   both    "a  sadder   and   a  wiser   man,"   and 
among  the  many  lessons  we  had  learned  in  our  trans- 
atlantic   travel   was    the    truth   of   that    old    Latin 
maxim  —  '-'•  Ccdura  non  animum  mutant  qui  trans 
mare  currunty     But  "  live  and  learn"  was  our  ever- 
consoling  motto,  and  so,  with  a  light  heart,  we  again 
went  forth  in  quest  of  other  scenes  and  other  adven- 
tures, amid   difierent  people  and  in  diflerent  lands. 
Our  wings  were  now  plumed  for  the  sunny  plains  of 
Italy,  where  from  the  pall  of  the  past  spring  themes 


Mkmokiks  ovkk  TiiK  Waikk.  157 

for  lofty  thought — where  glory  and  valor  and  song  had 
birth,  and  where  immortal  heroes  of  classic  memory 
had  their  homes,  by  the  shores  of  the  "Yellow  Tiber" 
and  the  gentle  Arno.  Our  heart  was  swelling  with 
pleasant  memories,  fresh  from  the  pages  of  Virgil,  of 
Horace,  and  of  Cicero ;  and  our  very  spirit  leaped 
within  us  as  the  strong-limbed  iron  steed  dashed  out 
from  the  handsome  depot,  and  sped  onward  toward 
"that  child  of  sorrow  and  that  land  of  sons."  Soon 
after  leaving  Vienna  we  passed  through  Baden,  the 
great  watering-place  of  Austria,  and  thence  held  on 
our  course  toward  Glocknitz,  winding  mostly  along 
the  bed  of  some  mountain  stream,  through  valley  and 
gorge,  watli  old  ruins  innumerable  capping  the  pine- 
clad  hills  above  us.  A  ride  of  a  few  hours  brought 
us  to  the  Glocknitz,  and  here  we  changed  our  cars  for 
the  omnibus,  by  which  to  cross  the  Semmering  Alp, 
which  was  then  being  partly  graded  and  partly  tun- 
neled for  the  passage  of  the  cars  over  its  lofty  height. 
Never  can  we  forget  the  highly  amusing  and  ridicu- 
lous confusion  that  we  experienced  in  the  change 
from  the  train  to  the  coaches.  Immediately  that  the 
cars  stopped,  the  most  of  the  passengers  rushed  out 
and  secured  their  seats  in  the  omnibuses,  filling  up 
most  of  them,  which  as  soon  as  they  had  received 
their  complement  of  persons,  forthwith  drove  on. 
Friend  Fogg  and  ourself,  having  been  delayed  for 
some  time  about  our  baggage,  began  to  be  apprehen- 
sive lest  all  the  scats  might  be  taken  before  us,  and 
we  be  left  behind.     Indeed  we  began  in  confusion. 


158  Memories   over  the  Water. 

and  concluded  in  "confusion  worse  confounded." 
"We  could  speak  only  the  fewest  words  of  German, 
and  were  compelled  to  rely  upon  our  wits  and  the 
motions  of  the  crowd  about  us  to  direct  our  own 
movements.  So,  on  reaching  our  destination,  Fogg 
approaching  a  stranger  with  a  huge  moustache — who, 
by  the  way,  was  a  jovial  son  of  Neptune,  Lieutenant 
Jones,  of  the  United  States'  navy — and  taking  him  to 
be  a  German,  and  one  who  could  not  understand 
English,  says  Fogg — "Glocknitz,  Glocknitz?"  look- 
ing Jones  in  the  face,  and  pointing  through  the  win- 
dows of  the  car  to  the  town  without.  "  Yaw !  yaw !" 
returned  Jones,  encouraging  the  mistake,  and  looking 
as  grave  as  a  deacon.  Thereupon  our  two  "modern 
travelers"  got  out,  and  after  being  bothered  for  a  con- 
siderable time  about  our  baggage,  we  next  bethought 
ourselves  of  a  seat  in  an  omnibus.  For  some  time 
we  searched  in  vain.  All  the  seats  were  compactly 
filled,  and  omnibus  after  omnibus  rattled  away,  until 
we  began  to  grow  desperate.  Now  these  cumbrous 
old  diligences  are  curiously  constructed.  The  body 
of  the  coach  is  divided  off  into  several  partitions,  and 
among  these  was  one  division  just  behind,  and  capa- 
ble of  containing  only  two  persons.  It  so  happened 
that  Fogg,  in  his  search  for  a  seat,  had  found  a 
diligence,  in  whose  rear  apartment  was  a  single 
German  traveler.  Without  more  ado,  he  possessed 
himself  of  this  remaining  vacant  seat.  But  Fogg  and 
ourself  were  traveling  on  the  same  "through  ticket," 
and  as  this  last  diligence  drove  off,  he  called  to  us 


Memories  ovek  the  Water.  159 

that  this  was  our  only  chance,  at  the  same  time 
making  as  much  room  for  us  as  possible  at  his  side. 
No  sooner  said  than  we  piled  in  on  our  friend  of 
"  Fader-land,"  without  the  first  word  of  apology  or 
preliminary  notice,  and  there  we  were,  a  precious  trio, 
rammed  as  tight  as  wax  within  the  naiTOw  inclosure. 
Upon  being  thus  unceremoniously  crowded,  the  Ger- 
man's face  grew  red  with  ire,  and  volley  after  volley 
of  Dutch  abuse  he  poured  upon  us.  But  not  compre- 
hending one  word  of  his  violent  tirade,  save  the 
constant  repetition  of  the  "zwei  persons" — signifying 
two  persons — we  paid  not  the  least  attention  to  his 
increasing  wrath,  and  were  only  intent  on  learning 
whether  all  was  right  with  us.  The  German's  choler 
was  now  waxing  louder  and  stronger,  and  we  were  in 
momentary  expectation  of  his  attempting  to  expel  us 
"vi  et  armis"  from  the  coach.  But  our  own  equa- 
nimity had  been  a  little  ruffled,  and  we  were  just  in 
the  humor,  provided  the  son  of  a  Dutchman  had 
resorted  to  any  physical  arguments,  to  have  seized 
him  by  the  nape  of  the  neck  and  tumbled  him  "  heels 
over  head"  out  of  the  door.  In  this  delectable  con- 
dition we  had  ridden,  we  suppose,  about  one  mile, 
when  suddenly  recollecting  the  custom  of  German 
traveling,  we  turned  to  our  companion  and  said  — 
"But,  Fogg,  have  you  changed  our  ticket?"  "No!  1 
have  not,"  was  the  curt  reply.  "  Then,  by  the  piper! 
we  are  in  a  pretty  mess,"  we  returned.  ""Well,  we 
must  go  back,  that's  all,"  quoth  Fogg,  and  suiting 
the  action  to  the  word,  he  bounced   out,  and  went 


IGO  Memokiks   oveu  tiij':  Watek. 

tearing  back,  like  uuul,  to  the  office  we  liiid  just  left, 
his  overcoat  dan<2,ling  on  his  arm,  and  flying  in  the 
wind.  Now  as  we  were  both  traveling  on  the  same 
ticket,  and  Fogg  had  that,  we  concluded  we  would 
have  to  follow,  and  so,  without  even  bidding  our 
German  friend  good  morning,  we  also  jumped  out, 
gathered  up  ourself  upon  our  legs,  and  made  an  efibrt 
to  follow.  But  just  here,  with  the  rear  of  our  flying 
friend  in  full  view,  and  our  choleric  companion 
behind  us,  our  sense  of  the  ridiculous  came  so  per- 
suasively upon  us  that  we  gave  over  the  chase,  laugh- 
ing heartily  at  our  condition,  and  perfectly  reconciled 
to  anything  that  might  now  turn  up.  But  the 
doughty  Dutchman  concluded  in  his  own  mind  that 
we  had  been  put  to  flight  by  his  valorous  words, 
when  in  truth  we  had  heard  but  little  and  heeded  less 
of  what  he  said.  On  again  coming  up  to  the  office, 
we  found  friend  Fogg  pale  from  his  rapid  exercise, 
and  panting  between  every  word,  as  he  endeavored  to 
explain  to  the  German  officer  our  dilemma,  while  he, 
equally  mystified,  bounced  about,  jabbering  his  jaw- 
breaking  German.  This  was  too  much  for  our  com- 
posure, and  despite  our  predicament,  we  sat  down 
and  laughed  until  we  could  hardly  move.  In  the 
end,  our  misfortune  turned  out  not  so  serious  as  we 
had  imagined.  Another  omnibus  was  procured,  and 
in  due  time  we  overhauled  those  who  had  gone 
on  before  us. 


CHAPTER    XXV 


On  reaching  the  foot  of  the  Semmering  Alp,  we 
dismounted  and  commenced  the  ascent  of  the  moun- 
tain-pass afoot,  outstripping  the  cumbrous  coaches 
by  short  tacks  and  brisk  walking.  The  summit  of 
the  Semmerinsc  is  estimated  at  three  thousand  one 
hundred  and  twenty-five  feet  above  sea  level.  At 
''Murzzuschlag  Stat,"  the  railway  depot  on  the  southern 
side  of  the  mountain,  Ave  again  took  the  cars,  and 
went  rattlincj  along  the  banks  of  the  Mur,  whose  bold 
and  lofty  views,  standing  out  in  clear  relief  against 
the  sky,  make  glad  the  heart,  as  the  delighted  eye 
glances  along  the  proud  mountain  scenery.  About 
nightfall  we  passed  by  the  city  of  Gratz,  the  capital 
of  Styria,  and  containing  about  forty  thousand  inhab- 
itants. We  traveled  all  that  night,  and  about  day- 
break on  the  following  morning  we  reached  Laybach. 
Here  the  railway  terminated,  and  taking  "  the  post" 
at  six  o'clock  we  bolted  right  on  lor  Trieste.  The 
country,  through  which  we  passed,  abounded  still  in 
beautiful  views,  many  of  them  receiving  the  cluinn  of 
romance  by  the  battlemented  walls  of  some  old  feudal 
castle,  tiiat,  like  a  grim  sentinel,  sat  moldering  and 

lonely  upon  the  isolated  hills.     We  nuiy  not  forget 

(IGl) 


1G3  Memories  over  the  Water. 

the  fair  lady  whom  we  had  as  a  traveling  companion 
— a  pleasant,  affable  and  intelligent  German,  with  blue 
eves  and  brown  hair,  who  had  been  on  a  visit  to  a 
friend,  who  lived  beyond  the  Semmering,  and  was  now 
homeward  bound,  alone  and  unprotected,  to  her  res- 
idence on  the  Gulf  of  Venice.  She  spoke  the  French 
language  with  perfect  fluency,  and  with  that  ease  and 
"  abandon  "  of  manner,  so  peculiar  to  the  fair  travelers 
of  France  ;  she  entered  into  conversation  with  us,  by 
which  we  managed  very  pleasantly  to  while  away  the 
weary  hours.  As  night  came  on  our  fair  incognito 
opened  a  small  carpet-bag,  and  taking  tlierefrom  a 
couple  of  close-fitting  traveling  bonnets,  she  put  on  one 
herself,  and  handed  the  other  to  us,  suggesting  that  we 
would  find  it  more  comfortable  for  sleeping  than  our 
hat.  "With  our  kindest  thanks  for  her  considerate 
courtesy,  the  bonnet  immediately  usurped  the  place  of 
our  beaver ;  an  exchange  which  fully  verified  the 
words  of  our  pretty  companion,  and  rendered  doubly 
agreeable  by  the  reflection  that  her  own  sweet  face  and 
dimpled  cheeks  had  often  nestled  within  the  same 
soft,  silken  folds,  wherein  our  own  caput  was  now  so 
snugly  ensconced.  A  few  hours  rolled  quietly  by, 
and  after  a  lono;  and  wearisome  ascent,  our  driver 
stopped  to  give  his  horses  a  breathing-spell,  and  the 
lady  observed  that  we  were  now  in  view  of  Trieste. 
We  had,  indeed,  reached  the  summit  of  the  mountain, 
which,  rising  up  immediately  in  the  rear  of  the  city, 
looks  out  upon  the  Gulf  of  Venice.  That  name,  like 
a  magnetic  shock,  aroused  us  from  our  drowsy  mood. 


Memories  over  the  Water.  163 

.and  we  spran^^  out  of  tlio  diligence  to  view  the 
noble  scene  that  lay  spread  before  us.  All  earth  was 
cradled  upon  the  bosom  of  night.  The  moon  and  the 
stars,  from  out  their  azure  home,  shone  serenely  down 
on  city,  gulf  and  mountain.  The  lamps,  along  the 
margin  of  the  water,  reflected  their  glowing  rays  out 
upon  the  placid  surface  of  the  Adriatic,  that  like  a 
mass  of  molten  silver  stretched  far  away,  until  sky 
and  water  blended.  In  fine  we  had  crossed  the  proud 
Alps,  and  standing  on  the  last  spur  of  the  Carnic  chain, 
by  the  light  of  the  loving  moon  we  first  hailed  "the 
bright  clime  of  battle  and  of  song."  lie  who,  from 
his  early  youth,  hath  loitered  among  academic  shades, 
treading  tiic  quiet  courts  of  the  Goddess  Minerva, 
whose  spirit  hath  been  ever  straying  amid  the  deep, 
dim  shadows  of  the  past,  and  lingering  long  above  the 
classic  clime  of  Italy,  where 

«'A  thousand  years  their  cloudy  wings  expand, 
And  a  dying  glory  smiles — " 

he  may  know  the  throng  of  busy  fancies  that  hurried 
throu'di  our  heart,  as  in  the  stillness  of  that  autumn 
night  we  first  looked  out  upon  the  waters  of  the 
Adriatic. 

"  Cold  is  the  heart,  fair  land,  that  looks  on  thee, 
Nor  feels  as  lovers  o'er  the  dust  they  loved  I" 

As  the  old  patriarch  of  Judah,  from  the  hoary  brow 
of  Fisgah,  gazed  upon  the  'laud  of  promise,' so  did 
our  exultant  eye  go  forth  to  greet  this  embodiment  of 
our  early  dreams.  But,  unlike  the  great  lawgiver, 
our  foot  was  not  forbidden  to  press  that  classic  ground, 


164  JNIemokiks  ovek  the  Water. 

where  every  step  is  sacred  in  history  and  song,  and 
from  whose  every  vale  and  mountain  wake  memories 
of  the  past.  Far  away  in  our  western  home,  across 
the  roUino;  billows  of  the  broad  Atlantic,  our  budding 
thoughts  were  wont  to  seek  this  very  land,  and  like 
some  lone  spirit  of  the  unburied  dead  haunt  its  sad 
and  holy  beauties. 

But  our  horses  are  rested,  and  the  impatient  coach- 
man is  calling  for  us  to  mount.  It  may  be  that  our 
rough  friend  is  anxious  to  get  down  into  the  city,  and 
receive  the  warm  welcome  of  his  wife  and  children. 
He  may,  even  now,  have  before  his  eyes  the  pictures 
of  his  happy  fireside,  and  so  we  will  no  longer  delay. 
"All  aboard  !"  and  again  we  are  in  motion,  lumbering 
down  the  tortuous  mountain  road,  until  we  reached 
the  city  walls.  Admission  gained  we  proceeded  on 
our  way,  and  draw  up  at  the  diligence  depot,  whence 
we  must  foot  it  to  the  "  Hotel  National,"  situated  just 
upon  the  margin  of  the  Gulf. 

Having  slept  but  little  for  several  nights  previous, 
on  arriving  at  Trieste  we  found  ourself  considerably 
exhausted,  and  the  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens  on 
the  following  morning  when  we  awoke.  Breakfast 
over  we  started  out  for  a  long  stroll  over  the  city.  We 
found  it  a  busy  and  thriving  place,  reminding  us,  in 
its  activity  and  trade,  more  of  an  American  city  than 
any  we  had  seen  on  the  continent.  The  docks  were 
filled  with  vessels  of  every  class,  and  the  sailors  of 
all  nations  were  busily  engaged  in  receiving  and 
discharging  their  costly  cargoes.     Here  you  may  hear 


Memokiks  ovek  tiik  "Watkii.  165 

.  VI  rv  hiugnagG  and  view  every  costume.  Trieste  is, 
in  fact,  the  great  "entire  port"  lor  all  southern 
Germany,  and  is  ra])idly  despoiling  Venice  of  what- 
ever trade  she  may,  at  this  day,  possess.  The  popu- 
lation of  Trieste  is  necessarily  of  a  motley  character — 
being  a  free  port — and  amounts  to  about  seventy-five 
thousand  souls. 

Before  leaving  we  went  up  to  see  Duomo  and  tlie 
castle.  The  old  Cathedral  was  founded  in  the  fifth 
century,  and  its  tower,  "  according  to  the  tradition  of 
the  elders,"  stands  on  the  former  site  of  an  ancient 
temple,  dedicated  to  Jupiter.  We  saw  the  old  broken 
pillars  of  marble,  with  their  Corinthian  capitals, 
inclosed  in  the  walls  of  the  tower,  and  braced 
together  by  bands  of  iron.  "While  loitering  about 
the  church,  the  bells  of  the  tower  pealed  loudy  forth, 
and  a  detachment  of  soldiers,  filing  out  from  the 
castle  gates,  marched  down  into  the  city,  a  relief- 
guard  to  those  then  on  duty  below.  On  our  return  to 
the  hotel  we  suddenly  came  upon  the  great  fruit 
market,  where  every  variety  of  the  production,  that 
could  tempt  the  palate,  was  spread  out  in  the  greatest 
profusion.  Among  many  others  we  recollect  there 
were  olives,  oranges,  grapes,  figs,  pomegranates, 
lemons,  apples,  pears,  chestnuts  and  tomatoes. 


CHAPTER    XXVI 


About  six  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  7th  of 
October,  we  left  the  city  of  Trieste  aboard  a  small 
steamer,  called  the  "  Arciduca  Federico,"  bound 
direct  for  Venice.  Our  prow  is  pointed  to  the 
south-west,  and  gliding  smoothly  over  the  tranquil 
gulf,  about  noon  we  came  in  view  of  the  ocean  queen, 
rising  from  out  the  Adriatic  wave  with  a  diadem  of 
domes.  Eoimding  the  long  sand-bank,  and  doubling 
the  strip  of  land  which  intervenes  between  Venice 
and  the  sea,  we  entered  the  city  of  the  gondola, 
and  dropped  our  anchor  in  the  "Grand  Canal." 
Our  water-ladders  are  now  let  down,  and  descend- 
ing to  the  wave,  we  tumbled  our  baggage  into  one 
of  the  numerous  gondolas,  which  were  flocking  round 
the  vessel,  and  forthwith  proceeded  to  the  "Albergo 
dell  Europa,"  situated  just  opposite  the  "Dogana 
del  Mare,"  and  in  other  days  called  the  "  Giustiani 
Palace."  The  beak  of  our  gondola  strikes  the  mar- 
ble steps,  and  springing  from  her  prow,  we  stood 
within  the  city  of  a  hundred  Isles. 

"  I  loved  her  from  my  boyliood  — she  to  me 
Was  as  a  fairy  city  of  the  heart, 
Rising  like  water  columns  from  the  sea. 
Of  joy  the  sojourn,  and  of  -wealth  the  mart." 

(166) 


Memokies  oveu  the  AVateu,  1»17 

The  first  thing  that  strikes  the  eye  of  the  stranger  in 
Venice  is  the  shattered  appearance  of  the  buildings, 
and  the  mournful  desolation  that  seems  to  prevail 
over  this  "bride  of  the  sea."  How  sad  the  contrast 
of  her  present  condition  to  the  days  of  her  early 
bloom  and  beauty.  She  seems  even  like  unto  one 
of  her  bankrupt  merchants.  The  days  of  her  doges 
are  passed  I  she  is  shorn  of  her  glory — she  has  long 
gone  to  decay !  Her  marble  fronts  arc  timeworn 
and  broken,  and  in  the  halls  of  her  former  princes 
now  revels  the  Austrian  hireling — a  palace  for  his 
barracks  and  the  bedrooms  of  royalty  for  his  ruth- 
less desecration.  Iler  people  are  poor  and  degraded — 
her  noble  sons  now  evil  and  degenerate — her  beaute- 
ous daughters  now  wayward  and  wretched. 

"  In  Venice,  Tasso's  echoes  are  no  more, 
And  silent  rows  the  songless  gondolier  ; 
Her  palaces  are  crumbling  to  the  shore. 
And  music  greets  not  always  now  the  ear — 
But  unto  us  she  hath  a  spell  beyond 
Her  name  in  story,  and  her  long  array 
Of  mighty  shadows,  whose  dim  forms  despond 
Above  the  dogeless  city." 

Venice  is  at  present  an  Austrian  province,  contains 
106,000  inhabitants,  is  built  on  76  islands,  with  146 
canals  crossed  by  306  public  bridges.  But  it  is  not 
absolutely  necessary  for  you  to  take  a  gondola  in 
your  travels  through  the  city ;  it  will  certainly  much 
expedite  your  progress ;  but  yet  there  are  side-walks 
along  the  most  of  the  canals,  by  means  of  which  the 


168  Mem  OKIES  over  tjie  Wateu. 

pedestrian  may  find  liis  way  from  one  extremity  to 
the  other.  At  every  step  some  object,  associated 
■with  the  poetry  of  his  early  reading,  presents  itself 
before  him.  Our  first  visit  was  to  the  Piazza  and 
Cathedral  of  San  Marco,  the  former  one  of  the  hand- 
somest squares  in  the  world,  and  the  latter  one  of 
tlie  richest  and  most  sinsjular  churches.  The  Cathe- 
dral  floor  is  beautifully  tasselated,  but  time-worn  and 
uneven.  Its  many  domes  and  spires  rise  up  from  the 
massy  roof,  resembling  in  their  peculiar  architecture 
the  Mosques  of  Mohammedan  worship.  On  the  left 
of  the  Cathedral  is  the  Molo.  On  the  right,  fronting 
the  Molo,  stand  the  two  famous  columns,  the  one 
mounted  with  a  Lion,  the  other  with  a  Crocodile. 

"  St.  Mark  yet  sees  his  Lion,  where  he  stood, 
Stand,  but  in  mockery  of  his  -withered  power, 
Over  the  proud  place  where  an  Emperor  sued — 
The  Suabian  sued,  and  now  the  Austrian  reigns — 
An  Emperor  tramples  where  an  Emperor  knelt, 
Kingdoms  are  shrunk  to  provinces,  and  chains 
Clank  over  sceptered  cities  ;  nations  melt 
From  power's  high  pinnacle,  when  they  have  felt 
The  sunshine  for  a  while,  and  downward  go. 
Like  lauwine  loosened  from  the  mountain's  bolt." 

Upon  the  brow  of  St.  Mark  we  saw  the  celebrated 
bronze  horses,  four  in  number,  whose  history  has 
been  one  of  constant  migration.  Coming  first  from 
the  far  east,  they  landed  at  Yenice.  Thence  they 
were  taken  to  Paris  by  Napoleon,  but  subsequently 
restored  again  to  Venice.  On  the  right  of  tlie  Cathe- 
dral  is  a   lofty    tower,   surmounted    by    two   bronze 


Memories  ovek  the  Watek.  1G9 

statues,  who  with  their  iron  arms  strike  the  lionr 
of  the  day,  against  a  large  bell,  by  the  side  of  which 
they  stand.  One  of  these  figures  once  committed 
murder,  by  knocking  an  unfortunate  workman,  who 
was  engaged  in  making  repairs,  over  the  parapet 
upon  the  pavement  below.  Whether  the  grim  statue 
was  ever  indicted  for  manslaughter  we  did  not  learn. 
At  one  corner  of  the  Cathedral  there  is  a  stone  called 
"  the  pillar  of  shame,"  because  thereupon  it  was  com- 
manded that  the  Venetian  merchants,  who  had  be- 
come insolvent,  should  publicly  receive  "the  benefit 
of  the  bankrupt  law."  We  saw  too  the  old  bell  of  the 
Tower,  that  tolled  the  election  of  Foscari's  successor, 
sending  a  dull  and  heart-heavy  sound  to  the  old 
man's  soul,  as  his  tottering  steps  bore  lain  from  the 
halls  of  his  ancestors. 

While  in  Venice  we  would  frequently  engage  a 
gondola,  and  explore  the  old  city  throughout  its 
every  nook  and  corner.  The  gondola  is  an  odd-look, 
ing  afi'air,  and  pretty  well  described  by  Byron  in  the 
following  oft'-hand  style — 

"  Didst  ever  see  a  gondola?    For  fear 
You  should  not,  I'll  describe  it  you  exactly  : 
'Tis  a  longcover'd  boat  tliat's  common  here, 
Carved  at  the  prow,  built  lightly  but  compactly, 
Row'd  by  two  rowers,  each  call'd  "goudolier  :" 
It  glides  along  the  water  looking  blackly, 
Just  like  a  coffin  clapt  in  a  canoe, 
Where  none  can  make  out  what  you  say  or  do." 

Taking  our  start  from  the  nioutli  of  the   "  Grand 
Canal,"   that   througii   the  center  ui'  the   city  winds 
U 


lYO  Memories  over  the  Water. 

like  the  letter  S,  we  would  direct  the  prow  wherever 
onr  faucy  might  lead.  On  one  occasion  we  were 
«ibout  concluding  an  agreement  with  an  old  and 
grizzly  gondolier  to  take  us  over  the  city,  when 
gliding  rapidly  by  came  a  youthful  and  athletic  oars- 
man, plying  his  gondola  with  such  dexterity  and 
grace,  that  abandoning  the  idea  of  employing  our 
ancient  waterman,  we  turned  and  forthwith  eniz;ao;ed 
his  more  youthful  rival.  The  indignant  old  man, 
deliberately  stepping  upon  the  Molo,  as  we  moved 
away,  with  that  graceful  dignity  of  manner  peculiar 
to  the  Italian  race,  made  us  his  profoundest  bow : 
then  turning  right  about  witJi  his  rear  guard  directed 
upon  onr  front^h.Q  again  repeated  his  lowly  salutation, 
and  next,  completing  the  revolution,  he  made  his 
third  salaam,  with  a  dignified  wave  of  the  head,  and 
retired.  We  foro:ave  the  old  villain  his  shameless 
insolence,  and  richly  enjoyed  the  peculiar  expression 
of  his  haughty  contempt.  In  fact  it  is  fur  better  to 
be  civil  to  the  gondolier  under  all  circumstances ;  for 
then  he  will  ever  be  courteous  to  you.  As  a  class  of 
men  they  are  a  set  of  careless,  singing,  good-looking, 
devil-may-care  fellows,  who  beg  no  favors  and  brook 
no  abusive  treatment.  But  moving  up  the  Grand 
Canal  we  proceeded  throughout  its  entire  length, 
passing  by  many  a  lordly  palace,  whose  marble  fronts, 
though  sadly  shattered  by  the  hand  of  time,  still  bear 
evidence  of  their  former  glory.  "  Gently  glides  our 
gondolier,"  and  here  is  the  old  "Exchange" — a 
perfect  picture  of  decay — so  changed  that  the  accus- 


MeMOKIKS    OVKIi   THE    "WaTEK.  171 

tomed  eye  of  Shylock  would  now  hardly  recognize  its 
battered  walls.  There  stands  the  former  abode  of  the 
Foscari  family  ;  here  the  "  Pizarro  Palace,"  and 
yonder  the  building  where  Byron  resided  with  the 
fair  Countess  Guiccioli.  Coming  out  at  the  upper 
end  of  the  canal  we  paused  under  one  of  the  arches 
of  the  "  Ponte  di  Laguna  " — a  magnificent  structure 
built  for  the  railway,  across  the  Lagoon,  and  connect- 
ing Venice  with  the  main  land.  This  bridge  is  more 
than  two  miles  in  length,  and  is  said  to  have  occupied 
two  thousand  workmen  for  several  years  of  daily 
labor  before  it  was  completed.  Changing  our  route 
we  returned  to  our  hotel,  making  on  our  way  a 
general  exploration  of  the  city  winding  along  through 
broad  and  narrow  canals,  and  by  many  a  marble 
palace,  to  wliich  the  salt  sea-weed  was  idly  clinging. 
We  visited  the  "  Manfrini  Palace,"  so  famous  for  its 
pictures.  "We  saw  there  the  celebrated  portrait  of 
Ariosto  by  Titian,  of  which  Byron  so  enthusiastically 
speaks.  Visited  more  cathedrals,  whose  histories  are 
nearly  coeval  with  that  of  Venice  herself.  We  also 
rowed  to  the  Arsenal,  but  not  havinig  written  permits 
from  the  city  authorities,  we  were  not  allowed  to 
enter.  While  meandering  through  tlie  dark  and 
narrow  canals  \vq  were  kept  in  continual  trepidation, 
lest  some  busy  Venetian  housewife  should  ilischarge 
the  contents  of  her  tul)S  upon  our  devoted  heads. 
We  heard  their  splash  behind  and  before  us,  but 
happily  escaped.  We  ascended  the  liigh  tower  at 
the  corner  of  the  :N[o1o,  wlunc.' wo   Ptndied  the  o-eo- 


172  Memories  over  the  Water. 

graphy  of  the  city,  and  wound  np  the  proceedings 
of  the  day  by  a  stroll  upon  the  "  Piazza  San  Marco  " 
at  night.  Here  the  Venetians  assembled  every  even- 
ing of  the  week,  Avhilc  the  fine  military  band, 
quartered  in  the  city,  beguile  their  ears  with  their 
martial  strains — an  Austrian  artifice  to  cheat  the 
abject  sons  of  Venice  into  a  contented  spirit,  and 
lure  their  thoughts  from  their  pristine  liberties. 
Here  the  citizens  of  both  sexes  nightl}'-  congregate, 
strolling  along  under  the  brilliantly  illuminated  ar- 
cades, peering  into  the  shop  windows,  or  else  saunter- 
ing out  in  the  open  squares,  under  the  smile  of  the 
cloudless  sky.  Venice  by  moonlight  is  indeed  a  glorious 
sight.  The  moonbeams  fall  like  a  mantle  of  beauty 
over  the  battered  walls,  as  if  in  mercy  to  hide  their 
wasting  decay.  The  soft  stars  look  lovingly  into 
their  own  bright  eyes,  through  the  mirror  of  the 
waves — the  memory  of  the  past  weaves  a  holy  spell 
around  the  heart,  and  the  still  spirit  worships  once 
more  at  the  shrine  of  its  early  dreams. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 


Before  leavinc^  Venice  we,  of  course,  "  did  up" 
the  Ducal  Palace  from  the  Giant's  Staircase  to  the 
Pionibi.  Whether  the  head  of  old  Marino  Faliero 
did  really  roll  tlown  tiiese  same  marblesteps  is  of  no 
consequence.  You  are  told  that  such  was  the  case, 
and  to  make  the  best  of  your  travels  you  must  look 
on  such  places  as  though  they  were  certainly  the 
witnesses  to  the  deed.  It  creates  the  same  feeling, 
and  answers  the  same  purpose.  We  next  saw  the 
famous  "  Lion's  Mouth,"  which,  now  that  Venice  is 
no  more,  is  no  longer  the  terror  of  the  traitor's  heart. 
After  ascending  several  flights  of  stairs  we  were 
shown  into  the  Inquisitorial  Chamber,  where  the 
prisoners  were  examined  and  tortured.  Thence,  we 
proceeded  to  the  council  chamber  of  the  "  Ten." 
From  this  we  passed  into  several  large  antecham- 
bers, one  leading  into  the  Senate  Chamber,  and 
another  into  the  Reception  Ilall  of  the  Ambassadors 
— the  latter  being  the  handsomest  room  in  the  Palace. 
Here  we  found  the  Rape  of  Europa  and  the  Venice 
Triumphant,  by  J'aul  Veronese.  Kext  we  visited  the 
other  side  of  the  Palace.  We  entered  the  Hall  of 
Debate,  now  converted  into  a  Library.     The  Paradise 

(  173  ) 


17-i  Mkmouiks   ovek  Tin;  Watkk. 

of  Tintoretti  occnpies  one  end  of  it,  ami  the  other 
Bides  are  covered  with  representations  of  the  diflerent 
battles  of  the  Republic.  Napoleon  has  robbed  the 
Ducal  Palace  of  many  of  its  choicest  ornaments, 
some  of  whicli  arc  now  to  be  seen  in  the  Louvre 
Galleries  at  Paris.  But  he  left  the  long  line  of  the 
Doges,  ranged  close  to  the  ceiling,  in  the  Hall  of 
Debate,  untouched.  The  lengthy  succession  is  yet 
unbroken,  except  where  the  black  curtain  of  Marino 
Faliero  suddenly  rivets  the  attention,  and  fills  the 
mind  with  a  mournful  and  mysterious  interest.  ''  It 
breathes  the  vindictive  spirit  of  Patrician  hate,  whose 
mask  was  patriotism,  but  whose  aim  was  power." 
Finally,  under  the  pilotage  of  a  guide,  with  a  lighted 
torch  in  his  hand,  we  visited  the  dungeons.  They 
all  open  on  a  narrow  passage,  are  about  six  feet 
square,  and  as  dark  as  Erebus.  Our  ambition  for 
groping  about  in  the  "  deeper  depths  "  of  darkness 
was  fully  gratified  by  the  time  we  once  more  emerged 
into  the  light  of  day,  when  mounting  a  flight  of  stone 
steps 

"We  stood  in  Venice,  on  the  Bridge  of  Sighs, 
A  palace  and  a  prison  on  either  hand." 

This  was  our  last  sight-seeing  expedition  in  Venice, 
and  soon  after  we  took  a  gondola  from  the  door  of 

"  Hotel  Europa,"  and  in  company  wuth  II and 

F started  for  tlie  railway  station.     On  arriving  at 

the  passenger  depot  we  found  a  goodly  number  of  the 
Venetians  in  waiting.  It  was  Sunday  morning,  and 
Sunday  with  them  is  a  gala-day.     About  half-past 


Memories  ovek  the  "Water.  175 

ten  the  long  train  was  on  the  move,  -with  a  line  mili- 
taiy  band  playing  in  onr  foremost  cars.  Speeding 
over  the  magnificent  bridge,  connecting  main-land 
with  the  "  city  of  the  sea,"  we  went  bounding  over 
"  terra-firma "  with  the  bright  sun  of  a  cloudless 
morn  shining  down  on  our  pathway.  The  chain  of 
the  Tyrolcse  Mountains  stood  out  toward  the  north, 
and,  as  seen  through  the  soft  and  dreamy  haze  of  the 
morning,  was  classically  beautiful.  But  we  could  not 
relish  the  idea  of  rushing  through  Italy  upon  the  rail- 
car.  It  seemed  as  tliough  we  were  disturbing  the 
dust  of  antiquity — that  we  were  breaking  the  sacred 
spell  of  ages,  and  desecrating  with  ruthless  step  the 
shrine,  wliither  love  and  poetry  and  romance  had  fled 
for  seclusion.  But  speeding  onward  through  a  lovely 
country,  blushing  with  the  purple  grape,  we  succes- 
sively passed  by  Padua  and  Vicenza,  and  about  two 
o'clock,  p.  M.,  reached  the  lair  city  of  Verona.  Taking 
an  omnibus  from  the  railway  terminus,  we  were 
driven  forthwith  to  the  city  gates,  where  we  were 
detained  for  some  time  by  the  examination  of  our 
passports.  Passing  now  under  the  dark  and  heavy 
iratewav,  above  which  frowned  the  black-mouthed 
cannon,  we  drove  " tout-a-droit "  down  an  almost 
interminable  street,  and  were  finally  deposited  at  our 
excellent  hotel  —  the  "Torre  di  Londra  " — where  we 
first  washed,  dined,  emplo3'ed  a  "commissionaire," 
and  set  out  to  see  the  sights  of  Verona.  First,  we 
visited  the  palace  and  burying-grouud  of  some  noble 
house,  whose  name  we  have  forgotten,  but  which  we 


176  Memories   over   the  Water. 

found  rich  in  marble  monument.     Went  next  to  the 
arapliitlieater,  which  is  said  to  be  in  a  better  state  of 
preservation  than  any  other  extant.     This  old  ruin  is 
really  an  interesting  object,  being  built  entirely  of 
stone,  and  withal  colossal  in  its  proportions.     The 
seats  rise  one  above  the  other  in  some  forty-four  tiers, 
existing  just  as  they  were  in  the  days  of  the  Empire. 
We  made  the  circuit  of  the  topmost  tier,  and  plucked 
therefrom  a  little  flower  that  modestly  grew  in  one  of 
the  crevices  of  the  stonework.     Next  we  went  to  the 
old  Roman  Gate,  which,  it  is  said,  was  long  standing 
prior  to  the  birth  of  Christ.     Here  our  companions. 
Hart   and   Fogg,  grew   weary   and   returned   to  the 
hotel.     But  discharging  the  valet  w^e  went  forth  upon 
a  voyage  of  discovery,  rather  preferring  to  sail  with- 
out the  escort  of  a  convoy.     We  again  retraced  our 
steps    to    the    old   Amphitheater,    crossed    over  the 
"Grand  Place,"  and  struck  into  the  handsome  prome- 
nade leading  out  to  the  southern  gate.     An  immense 
concourse  of  citizens  thronged  along  this  thorough- 
fare, and  we  w^ere  struck  with  a  gentility  of  dress  and 
manner,  which  does  not  usually  belong  to  the  cities 
of  Italy.     The  beauteous  women,  and  total   absence 
of  beggars,  contrasted  agreeably  with  what  we  had 
just  left  in  the  squalid  alleys  of  Venice.     But  one 
seeks  in  vain  here  for  the  golden  locks  and  softened 
features  of  Titian's  "  Bella  Donna."     The  women  are 
dark,  imperious  and  bewitching,  with  a  dashy  style, 
anrl  a  wicked  sparkle  in  their  eye.     The  warm  gaze 
of  the  Verona  girl  is  paf-sion's  essence,  and  the  pages 


Memories  oveu  the  Watek,  177 

of  romance  could  scarcely  exaj^gerate  the  deeds  she 
dare  do  in  her  love's  madness.  l>ut  onward  we  went, 
passing  out  of  the  cit}',  turning  to  the  west,  and 
strolling  along  the  grass-clad  moats  and  lofty  walls, 
while  as  lovely  and  as  glowing  a  picture  as  ever 
found  "a  habitation  and  a  home,"  in  the  day-dreams 
of  the  poet,  was  flitting  before  our  view.  The  sun 
had  just  gone  to  rest,  and  left  his  purple  mantle 
on  the  Tyrol  Hills.  All  was  so  calm,  so  soft,  so 
dream-like,  and  so  still,  that  it  seemed  as  though 
some  sweet  vision  had  stolen  gently  o'er  the  musing 
heart,  soothing  it  into  an  oblivious  trance,  and  trans- 
porting the  passive  spirit  to  the  golden  realms  of 
dream-land.  "We  looked  upon  the  sunset  scene 
before  us,  and  within  our  heart  we  could  have  wept 
over  the  fallen  state  of  that  land  of  the  classic  and 
the  cloudless  clime.  The  bright  morning  breaks  as 
beauteously,  and  the  calm  sweet  night  steals  as  gently 
o'er  thy  blushing  bosom  as  in  the  days  of  yore.  But 
alas !  how  changed  thy  lot,  how  wasted  is  the  beauty 
of  thy  smile !  Like  to  thy  sweet  daughter,  Beatrice, 
thine  was  the  gift,  the  dangerous  gift  of  beauty,  and 
thou  art  fallen.  We  turned  from  the  fairy  view  and 
from  our  own  meditation,  as  the  shadows  of  night 
began  to  curtain  in  the  city,  and  re-entering  by  the 
southern  gate,  we  mingled  again  amid  the  gay  and 
busy  crowd,  that  swarmed  along  the  illumined 
streets.  As  we  returned  hotel- ward  we  encountered  a 
funeral  procession,  bearing  the  body  of  some  departed 
brother,  by  the  light  of  the  flickering  torch,  to  his 


178  Memories  otek  the  Water. 

last  restiug-place.  The  priest  preceded  the  corpse  in 
his  loner  -white  robes,  and  the  mourners  followed  after. 
A  funeral  cortege  is  a  solemn  sight  under  the  smile 
of  day,  but  a  burial  by  torchlight  haunts  the  remotest 
recess  of  the  soul,  and  stirs  from  their  silent  caverns 
a  thousand  dismal  specters.  It  puts  to  flight  every 
thought  of  human  folly,  and  sweeps  with  a  strong 
arm  every  vestige  of  mirth  from  out  the  heart  of  the 
spectator. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII 


On  the  morning  of  the  13th  of  October,  1851,  the 
Tower  of  Verona  disappeared  rapidly  from  our  sight, 
as  we  made  the  run  down  to  Mantua  in  an  hour  and 
a  quarter  on  the  cars.  Mantua  is  a  singular  place, 
unique  in  its  appearance  and  position,  and  conspicu- 
ous for  the  sieges  that  have  been  made  against  its 
walls  in  both  ancient  and  modern  times.  The  gar- 
rison of  soldiery  comprises  no  inconsiderable  portion 
of  its  population,  and  is  doubtless  an  eyesore  as  well 
as  a  burden  to  the  laboring  classes.  "We  could  only 
feel  thankful  that  no  such  incubus  rested  on  the  pro- 
gress of  our  own  country,  and  that  freedom  might  still 
claim  a  home  so  long  as  the  institutions  of  America 
found  existence;  that  liberty  of  speech  was  not 
visited  with  the  penalty  of  the  code  of  Venice,  where 
only  a  few  days  before  some  poor  fellow,  more  rash 
than  wise,  for  the  expression  of  some  republican 
opinion,  was  swung  from  the  gallows,  and  actually 
sufi'ered  to  hang  by  the  neck  throughout  the  entire 
day,  a  ghastly  warning  to  all  others  of  a  similar 
creed. 

Mantua  is  one  of  the  best  fortified  cities  in  the 

world,  both   by  nature   and   by  art.     But  the  city, 

(179) 


180  Memories  over  the  Water. 

impregnable  to  the  assaults  of  man,  yet  finds  its 
conqueror  in  the  monster  death,  Avho,  owing  to  the 
noxious  miasma  arising  from  its  stagnant  marshes, 
revels  in  this  birthplace  of  the  poet  Virgil.  Barracks 
and  military  hospitals  abound,  and  from  the  latter 
■we  would  frequently  see  file  forth  a  wan  and  ghastly 
body  of  emaciated  men,  whose  woe-begone  appear- 
ance would  have  put  to  blush  the  corps  of  Falstaff 
itself. 

"We  left  Mantua  in  the  "Courier'' — the  regular 
mail  coach — passing  through  Modena  and  Bologna, 
and  reached  Florence  on  the  following  morning  about 
sunrise.  In  traveling  through  Italy,  the  stranger  to 
its  arts  and  customs  may  as  well  reconcile  himself, 
from  the  word  'go,'  to  a  constant  succession  of 
impositions.  Though  he  may  not  for  once  be  de- 
cidedly '■'■taken  in,^^  yet  he  will  encounter  at  every 
step  a  species  of  swindling,  which  it  is  utterly  impos- 
sible to  evade.  We  could  but  wonder  that  such  a 
policy  is  pursued  by  the  people  of  Italy,  supported 
and  sustained  as  they  arc  by  the  immense  influx  of 
strangers,  who  annually  leave  them  a  golden  harvest. 
They  must  feel  and  know  that  their  country  has 
become,  as  it  were,  one  vast  exhibition ;  that  what- 
ever of  wealth  and  vitality  it  now  possesses  may  be 
attributed  to  the  golden  shower  that  is  hailed  upon 
them,  principally  from  the  pockets  of  English  and 
American  travelers ;  and  yet  it  would  seem  that, 
by  their  swindling,  their  impositions,  and  their 
knavery,  it  was  the  one  object  to  get  as  much  as 


M?:mokiks   ovkk  the  WATiui.  181 

possible  iVoiii  tlie  purse  of  the  stranger,  and  leave 
only  the  resolution  in  liis  heart  never  to  set  foot  upon 
that  soil  again,  if  it  be  his  good  fortune  once  more  to 
get  out  of  it.  The  cities  of  Italy  are  perfect  catch- 
traps  for  the  unwary.  You  bribe  in  and  you  bribe 
out.  The  keeper  of  the  gate  tells  you  that  you  must 
allow  your  baggage  to  be  looked  into  and  your  pass- 
port to  be  seen.  But  the  sight  of  a  handful  of  silver 
will  allay  all  the  worthy  potential's  curiosity,  and  he 
will  pass  you  in  with  a  'God  speed'  on  your  way,  and 
never  feel  the  first  blush  for  his  own  corruption.  The 
cities,  too,  are  entered  through  frowning  fortifications, 
planted  with  cannon  and  guarded  with  soldiery. 
They  are  generally  surrounded  by  high  walls  and 
deep  moats,  the  latter  being  crossed  by  means  of  the 
drawbridge. 

Bologna  w^e  found  quite  a  handsome  city,  its 
outward  appearance  indicating  a  cleanliness  and 
prosperity  that  was  in  marked  contrast  with  the 
majority  of  Italian  towns.  "We  left  Bologna  about 
five  o'clock,  p.  M.,  and  passing  many  handsome 
villas,  with  their  stately  gateways,  hedge-fences,  and 
long  avenues,  we  were  soon  after  ascending  the 
heights  of  the  Apennines,  which,  throughout  the  day, 
we  had  seen  off  to  the  right.  We  traveled  all  that 
night,  and  with  a  dull  and  heavy  headache,  which 
utterly  incapacitated  us  for  the  enjoyment  of  the  fine 
mountain  views  by  moonlight.  Indeed  we  spent  a 
most  wretched  night,  and  morn  came  like  an  angel 
from   the   East,   as    it   broke    lovinuly  over  the   fair 


182  Memories  over  the  Watek. 

landscape,  discovering  to  our  eyes  the  poetic  Florence, 
lying  in  a  rich  and  smiling  valley  at  our  feet,  its 
proud  dome  lifting  its  lofty  head  among  the  clouds, 
and  the  many  white-walled  villas  in  its  vicinity 
embowered  in  their  green  orchards,  and  shining 
brightly  in  the  morning  sun.  We  reached  the 
"  Hotel  New  York,"  overlooking  the  turbid  Arno, 
and  in  due  time  our  physical  condition  was  much 
improved  by  cold  bath  and  clean  linen.  This  much 
accomplished,  we  started  out  from  our  hotel,  and  soon 
after  dropped  in  at  the  "  Caffe  Americano,"  to  get  a 
cup  of  coffee.  While  quietly  sipping  the  refreshing 
beverage,  our  sight  w^as  suddenly  greeted  by  one  of 
those  pictures  of  Italian  life,  which  from  our  early 
boyhood  had  been  associated  with  our  images  of 
beauty  and  romance,  in  the  person  of  a  genuine 
flower-girl  of  Florence,  with  her  broad-brimmed  hat 
and  blue  ribbon,  basket  of  flowers  and  tid}'^  dress,  a 
rosy  cheek  and  a  smiling  face.  She  must  have 
immediately  recognized  us  as  a  stranger,  for,  passing 
by  all  the  other  visitors  at  the  Cafie,  she  came 
directly  to  our  table,  and  made  us  the  object  of  her 
special  attention.  Culling  two  of  her  fairest  bouquets 
from  her  basket  of  flowers,  she  presented  them  with 
an  easy  grace,  entering  at  the  same  time  into  a  series 
of  pretty  questions  and  observations  in  the  courteous 
and  musical  language  of  her  country,  and  finally 
retiring  with  the  same  winning  grace  that  distin- 
guished her  "entree."  These  flower-girls  never  expect 
that  you   should   pay   for    their  pretty   presents   on 


Memories  ovee  the  Watek.  183 

receiving  them,  Tliey  will,  however,  meet  you,  with- 
out fail,  each  morning  with  a  fair  and  fresh  bouquet, 
and  only  anticipate  a  recompense  prior  to  your  depar- 
ture from  their  city.  If  they  meet  you  walking  on  the 
street,  they  will,  with  an  ease  and  dexterity  almost 
miraculous,  fasten  a  bunch  of  their  flowers  in  the 
buttonhole  of  your  coat,  and  with  a  smile  pass  on. 
This  is  certainly  a  species  of  begging ;  but  w^ith  us 
they  were  ever  welcome,  for  the  poetry  of  their 
vocation,  for  their  sweet  smiles,  their  bright  eyes,  and 
their  blooming  cheeks. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 


On  reaching  Florence  the  weather,  which  np  to 
that  time  had  been  bright  and  cloudless,  suddenly 
grew  damp  and  drear3\  The  rainy  season  had  set  in, 
and  the  clouds  continually  poured  forth  their  floods, 
rendering  the  streets  slippery  and  disagreeable,  and 
causing  the  Arno,  fed  by  mountain  tributaries,  to 
surge  madly  along,  a  bold  and  muddy  torrent.  With 
nothing  more  important  on  hand,  we  would  fre- 
quently loiter  along  the  "Vin  Maggiv,"  and  stopping 
on  the  "Ponte  Santa  Trinita,"  watch  the  crowd  that 
unceasingly  poured  across.  This  bridge  is  a  broad 
and  handsome  structure,  whose  four  corners  are 
severally  ornamented  with  marble  statues,  represent- 
ing the  four  seasons.  But  the  most  interesting  spot 
about  Florence  is  the  "  Panza  Gran  Duca,"  where 
sculpture  of  world-wide  fame  is  to  be  found  in  rich ' 
profusion.  In  the  center  of  the  square  stands  the 
bronze  equestrian  statue  of  Cosmo  First,  in  all  the 
regal  dignity  of  his  character.  Fronting  the  "  Palazza 
Vechia,"  whose  somber  walls  look  as  stern  and  for- 
bidding as  the  lawless  democracy  that  once  ran  riot 
there,  is  the  celebrated  David  of  Michael  Ani=:elo. 

The  marble  of  this  statue,  however,  is  defective ;  but 
(184) 


Mkmokies  ovEii  THE  Wateu.  185 

independent  of  this  we  could  perceive  nothing  of  tliiit 
rare   merit   in    tlie    execution    of   the    work  that    an 
admiring  world  accords  it.     Among  the  other  groups 
we  recollect  Hercules  destroying  Cacus,  Perseus  cut- 
ting off  the  head  of  the  Medusa,  the  llape  of  the 
Sabines,    and   Theseus    killing    the    Centaur.      The 
Fountain   of   Keptune,    on   the  left   of    the   Palace, 
is   a   matinificent    work    of   art.      The    Duomo    of 
Florence  is  a  huge  and  costly  building,  -whose  dome 
•was  the  proudest  of  all   the  works  of  the  iunnortal 
Angelo.     Adjoining  the  Cathedral  is  the  Baptistery, 
whose  doors  the  artist  pronounced  worthy  to  be  the 
gates  of  Paradise.    We  thought  them  most  beautifully 
and  elaborately  wrought,  but  could  not  agree  with 
Angelo  in  his  profane   admiration,  especially  when 
such  representations  as  Leda  and  the  Swan,  and  other 
heathen  fables  equally  objectionable,  were  engraved 
in  bold  relief  upon  their  sides.     Most  of  the  churches 
of  Florence  have  a  rough  and  unfinished  appearance, 
and  the  palaces  wear  a  gloomy,  feudal  air,  recording 
with  their  iron  bars  and  massive  doors  the  violence 
of  the  aire  in  which  their  architect  flourished.     The 
popular  evening  resort  is  the  Cascine,  a  handsome 
arrangement  of  pleasure-grounds,  about  a  mile  below 
the   city,  on   the  left  bank   of  the  Arno.     On   one 
Sunday  afternoon,   as   we  were   strolling  along  the 
smoothly -graveled  walks,  we  encountered  the  Grand 
Duke  of  Tuscany,  making  an  airing  in  an  open  car- 
riage.    He  seemed  to  us  a  venerable  and  benevolent 
old  man,  and  was  graciously  dofiing  his  hat  to  his 


186  Memories  over  the  Water. 

loyal  and  devoted  subjects  as  he  passed.  On  reach- 
ing the  Cascine  we  discovered,  in  one  of  the  numerous 
carriages  that  are  generally  ranged  about  the  band  of 
music,  one  of  the  fair  acquaintances  of  our  college 
days,  Miss  Anna  Henning,  of  New  Orleans,  with 
whom  we  had  danced  away  many  a  merry  hour  in 
our  native  city.  Just  for  the  sake  of  an  experiment, 
we  strolled  carelessly  up  to  the  carriage,  and  without 
making  ourself  at  all  known,  addressed  our  fair 
friend,  when  to  the  gratification  of  a  pardonable 
vanity,  we  were  immediately  recognized.  Next  fol- 
lowed an  introduction  to  a  young  lady  from  Russia, 
and  then  a  stroll  over  the  grounds.  While  on  the 
promenade,  however,  a  young  officer  of  the  Austrian 
army  came  up  and  laid  us  under  many  obligations  by 
taking  charge  of  the  lady  of  the  snowy  clime,  and 
leaving  us  alone  with  the  i)retty  Anna.  We  had  a 
pleasant  chat  over  the  olden  time,  and  about  our 
mutual  friends  in  Nashville,  and  on  parting  in  the 
evening  we  received  a  pressing  invitation  to  call  fre- 
quently at  the  "  Casa  Gratzieni."  It  was  now  dusk, 
and  on  our  return  to  the  city  we  overtook  our  travel- 
ing companion,  Fogg,  in  company  with  Messrs.  Hart 
and  Gait,  two  young  American  sculptors,  located  in 
Florence.  Hart  has  won  considerable  reputation  as 
an  artist,  and  was  delegated  by  the  ladies  of  Rich- 
mond, Virginia,  to  go  to  Florence  for  the  purpose  of 
executing  a  statue  of  Henry  Clay.  Young  Gait  is 
also  a  sculptor  of  promise.  While  we  were  in  Flor- 
ence he  was  at  work  on  a  piece,  which  he  called  the 


Memokies   over  the  Water.  187 

nympli  Psyche,  and  which   was  considered   a  very 
creditable  execution. 

On  the  following  day  we  did  nothing  but  ramble 
about,  alone,  over  every  quarter  of  the  city.     When 
the  cravings  of  appetite  admonished  us  of  the  hour 
for  dinner,  we  would  step  into  a  restaurat,  satisfy  its 
clamorous  calls,  and  resume  again  our  solitary  pere- 
grinations, with  ears  ready  to  hear  and  eyes  on  the 
look  out  to  see  whatever  might  cross  our  path.     The 
close  of  the  day  found  us  again  at  the  Cascine,  and 
nio-ht  had  come  on  ere  we  commenced  our  hotel-ward 
return.     Keeping  immediately  on  the  bank  of  the 
river,  we  came  to  the  Suspension  Bridge,  and  con- 
cluding we  would  like  to  explore  the  region  on  the 
other  side  the  Arno,  we  crossed  over,  and  was  just 
on  the  point  of  stepping  again  on  "  Terra  Firma," 
when  the  custode  popped  his  head  out  from  a  little 
cuddy-hole  to  the  left,  and  demanded  the  usual  toll  of 
three  quatrini.     Now  it  so  happened  that  we  had  not 
a  single  quatrine  in  our  purse,  and  so  could  not  pay 
the   sum   required.     But  we  w^ere  unwilling  to  go 
back — knowing,  too,  that  by  so  doing  we  should  have 
twice  crossed  the  bridge  without  toll — and  so  taking 
out  our  empty  porte-monnaie,  and  clapping  our  hand 
upon  it  that  the  custode  might  be  witness  to  the  hol- 
low sound,  we  started  off.     The  merry  keeper  "let  us 
rip,"  laboring  though,  wo  verily  believe,  under  the 
impression  that  we  would  return  again  that  way,  and 
then  pay  the  double   toll.      But  it  was   now  quite 


188  Memokies   over  the  Water. 

dark,  and  as  wc  fumbled  along,  all  alone,  through  the 
narrow,  obscure  streets,  among  the  dark-browed 
Florentines,  we  buttoned  up  our  coat,  and  kept  a 
sharp  look  out  for  the  stiletto.  We  were  not,  how- 
ever, molested  in  our  course,  and  a  short  while  after, 
we  had  found  one  of  the  city  gates,  through  which 
we  were  glad  to  enter,  and  soon  we  had  reached  our 
room. 

One  of  the  most  striking  features  of  Florence  is  the 
frequent  procession  of  men,  which  the  stranger  meets, 
all  dressed  in  long  dominoes,  with  their  forms  and 
features  perfectly  concealed,  and  bearing  with  them 
some  sick  and  suffering  mortal  to  the  charity  hospital. 
We  were  told  that  these  men  were  members  of  a 
society,  composed  of  the  first  rank  in  Florence,  with 
the  Grand  Duke  himself  at  their  head,  and  whose 
object  was  to  alleviate  the  sufferings  of  humanity — 
to  visit  the  sick,  to  provide  for  the  poor,  and  to  bury 
the  penniless  dead.  This  they  are  required  to  do 
under  cloak  and  mask,  that  their  charity  be  unknown 
and  un vaunted.  A  beautiful  idea  we  thought  it  was, 
and  an  honorable  comment  upon  the  city,  that  these 
noble  and  high-born  families  should  thus  perform 
their  deeds  of  goodness,  closely  following  the  admo- 
nition of  Ilira,  M-ho  hath  said  — "  Let  not  thy  right- 
hand  know  what  thv  left-hand  doeth." 

On  the  day  following  we  took  a  run  through  the 
Imperial  Gallery,  famous  for  its  rare  sculpture ;  and 
whom  should  we  meet  in  the  tribune  but  our  friend 


Memokies  ovek  the  Watek.  189 

R,  W.  McGavock,  of  Nashville,  gazing;  on  the  Venus 
di  Medici.  We  were  of  course  delii^hted  to  greet 
again  his  lamiliar  face,  and  together  we  made  the 
tour  of  the  iralleries.  "What  treasures  of  art  does  that 
little  room  contain  I  whichever  way  you  turn,  some 
immortal  creation  greets  your  eye.  Every  picture  is 
a  gem,  and  every  piece  of  marble  famous.  The  dis- 
puted Knife-grinder  stoops  lifelike  by  the  side  of  the 
eroddess  of  Love ;  the  intricate  contortion  of  the 
AVrestlers  contrasts  well  with  the  joyful  abandonment 
of  the  Dancing  Fawn,  while  the  god  of  music  closes 
the  circle  of  exclusives.  There  is  also  here  a  fine 
copy  of  the  group  of  Laocoon  and  his  sons.  The 
Priest  of  Apollo  had  dared  to  hurl  his  iron  spear  into 
the  side  of  the  wooden  horse,  and  the  patriotic  father 
and  devoted  sons  paid  the  penalty  by  their  death. 
"Tmco  Danaos  etiam  dona  ferentes.''''  Among  the 
more  noted  paintings  are  the  Virgin  of  Angelo; 
Niobe  and  her  children ;  the  Mercury  of  John  of 
Bologna  ;  the  Head  of  Medusa,  by  the  gloomy  pencil 
of  Caravazzio;  and  the  blue-hooded  Magdalene,  of 
Sassafarato.  The  face  of  the  Medusa,  with  her 
matted  locks  of  livid,  gory  reptiles,  is  "horribly 
beautiful" — a  mutilated  fright — that,  by  the  fair 
countenance  of  the  sainted  Madonna,  looks  like 
heaven  and  hell  contrasted.  Having  completed  the 
survey  of  the  galleries,  we  returned  with  Mr. 
McGavock  to  "Hotel  de  York,"  where  we  found  our 
friends,  Mr.  Edward  H.  Ewing,  of  Kashville;  James 


190  Memories   over  'niE  Water. 

Price,  of  Lebanon;  and  Johnstone,  of  South  Caro- 
lina; not  forgetting,  either,  the  Kniglit  of  the  Razor, 
Frank  Parrish.  It  was  our  purpose,  on  reaching 
Florence,  to  rest  about  a  month  within  tlie  walls; 
but  our  newly-found  friends  proposing  that  we  should 
accompany  them  down  to  the  "Eternal  City,"  our 
stay  in  the  Tuscan  capital  was  cut  short. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 


Among  the  most  prominent  objects  of  interest  in 
Florence  are  the  Museum  and  the  Pitti  Palace.  The 
former  is  one  of  the  most  extensive  and  well-arranged 
establishments  of  the  kind  in  Europe,  containing, 
among  a  thousand  other  attractions,  the  astronomical 
apparatus  of  Galileo.  The  wax-gallery  is  gotten  up 
on  a  most  magnificent  scale.  The  plagues  of  Florence 
and  Milan,  especially,  attract  attention  for  the  truthful- 
ness of  their  representation.  The  execution  is  most 
excellent,  but  the  horrible  scenes  presented  to  the 
eye,  nauseate  the  very  soul  with  their  loathsome 
Bights.  The  anatomical  department  is  most  perfect 
and  complete.  The  medical  student  might  there 
learn,  in  one  day,  more  of  the  construction  of  the 
human  frame,  than  by  six  months  of  diligent  study 
in  his  office.  Not  a  bone,  nor  a  vein,  nor  a  single 
fiber  is  there  in  "this  mortal  coil"  that  does  not 
find  there  its  perfect  countei-part.  But  Florence  is 
the  Paradise  of  loafers.  The  English,  especially, 
make  this  their  refuge  in  time  of  pecuniary  or  politi- 
cal distress ;  and  many  of  them,  bankrupt  in  pui*se 
and  reputation,  find  this  an  asylum  from  a  home 
persecution.    Living  in  Florence  is  proverbially  cheap, 

(191) 


192  Memokies  over  the  Water. 

and    many  an  English   nobleman,  of  the  "shabby- 
genteel"  rank,  who,  in  his  own  country,  could  hardly 
support  the  semblance  of  his  position,  here  moves  in 
lordly  style.     A  palace  may  be  rented,  and  dashing 
equipages,  with   liveried   servants,  be   had  for  what 
in  England  would  hardly  suffice  for  the  necessities  of 
life.     Then,   as  wc   have  observed,  Florence   is   the 
Paradise  for   loafers.     The   routine   of  daily  amuse- 
ments is  more  varied,  and   at  the   same   time   less 
expensive,  than  at  any  other  place  in  the  world.     The 
toilet  having  been  leisurely  accomplished  in  the  morn- 
ing you   may  pass  over  to  Doney's,  and   breakfast 
upon  eggs,  cofiee,  and  delicious  bread  and  butter,  for 
which  you  pay  one  paul — about  ten  cents.     Then  a 
ramble  through  the  Imperial  Gallery  will  fatigue  you 
just  enough  to  make  you  relish  an  ice  or  a  lemonade, 
which   will  cost  only  half  a  paul.     You  may  then 
pass  over  the  Arno,  and  walking  unquestioned  into 
the  Pitti  Palace,  sink  into  a  soft,  cushioned  scat,  and 
gaze  upon  the  Madonna  de  Seggiola  of  Eaphael,  or 
the  Virgin  of  Murillo.     One  turn  of  the  head,  and 
the  lovely,  guileless,  glorious  Judith  of  Allori  stands 
before  you,  with  a  strange  contrast  exhibited  in  the 
cruel  clutch  of  her  fingers  in  the  gory,  matted  hair  of 
the  fallen  warrior,  and  the  soft,  w^omanly  beauty  of 
her  dark  eyes  and  full,  warm  lips.     In  the  next  room 
you  will  find  the  death-scene  of  Cleopatra,  and  for  the 
moment  you  will  forgive  the  infatuation,  which   lost 
a  world  to  the  victim  of  Egypt's  queen  ;  but  turning 
thence  to  the  "Sister   Fates''  of  Angelo,    and   the 


Memories  ovek  the  Water.  193 

gloomy,  dark-browed  "  Couspirators "  of  Salvator 
Kosa,  that  fond  weakness  will  give  way  to  a  sterner 
mood,  as  you  gaze  upon  the  inexorable  calmness,  and 
the  cold  inhumanity  depicted  upon  every  feature  of 
those  withered  old  women  ;  and  upon  the  unrelenting 
purpose  of  the  arch  conspirator,  Cataline.  But  when 
your  eye  grows  weary  of  the  canvass,  pass  through 
these  priceless  halls  of  painting,  and  view  the  Venus 
of  Canova,  She  is  a  shade  larger  than  the  Venus  di 
Medici,  and  tiie  marble  from  which  she  is  wrought  is 
slightly  defective  ;  but  yet  she  is 

"All  that  ideal  beauty  ever  blessed 
The  mind  with." 

But,  perhaps,  you  are  now  content  with  the  sight  of 
gorgeous  halls,  glowing  with  sculpture  and  painting. 
If  so,  and  you  would  wish  to  separate  true  beauty  from 
the  trappings  of  wealth,  then  call  at  the  studio  of  our 
gifted  countryman,  Iliram  Powers,  and  see  there  such 
genius  as  will  not  shrink  from  comparison  with  that 
of  the  immortal  Greek.  His  productions  most  properly 
rank  among  the  choicest  pieces  of  modern  sculpture. 
In  the  words  of  another — "  without  having  that  clas- 
sical severity  of  the  ancient  ideal,  they  have  all  their 
beauty,  and  just  enough  of  earth  to  keep  them  out  of 
heaven." 

But  by  this  it  is  time  for  dinner  ;  after  which  you 
either  have  a  drive  down  to  the  Cascine  with  the 
Florentine  fashionables,  or  else  enjoy  a  quiet  stroll 
through  the  Boboli  Gardens.  By  this  time  the  sun  is 
set,  and  the  theaters  open.  The  liours  of  poetry  begin, 
it; 


194  Memories  over  the  "Water, 

and  you  sink  into  sleep  that  night  with  the  notes  of 
"  II  Bravo"  or  "  Torqnato  Basso  "  murmuring  in  your 
ear.     Thus  closes  a  day  in  Florence. 

But,  of  a  truth,  Florence  is  a  fair  place  to  dwell  in. 
The  galleries  and  public  places  are  thrown  open  at  all 
times  free  of  expense,  and  free  of  annoyance.  The 
liberty  of  the  press  can  hardly  be  called  restricted, 
and  an  enlightened  policy  marks  the  present  rule  of 
Tuscany.  The  soldiers  are  few  and  civil ;  the  people 
loyal  and  contented  ;  for  the  Grand  Duke  is  liberal 
and  loves  his  subjects.  There  is  an  absence  of  exor- 
bitant taxation,  and  consequently  an  abundance,  a 
cheapness,  an  excellence  of  almost  everything.  Beside 
this  Florence  is  now  the  home  of  the  Fine  Arts,  where 
many  of  our  own  painters  and  sculptors  resort  for  the 
advantages  it  affords.  Then,  too,  its  history  has  been 
one,  around  which  the  charm  of  romance  and  poetry 
is  thrown.  In  perilous  enterprises ;  in  deeds  of  daring 
and  endurance;  in  adventures  of  love  and  war, 
Florence  stands,  almost,  without  a  rival.  But  now  it 
is  a  sweet  and  gentle  place ;  quite  different  from  the 
turbulent  city  it  once  was,  when  Guelf  and  Ghibelline 
warred  the  one  against  the  other,  and  dyed  the  ducal 
threshold  with  fraternal  blood.  In  the  peaceful 
loungers  along  the  Cascine  you  would  hardly  recog- 
nize the  descendants  of  that  restless  democracy  whose 
law  was  vengeance,  and  whose  liberty  was  license ; 
nor  in  the  fair  administration  of  the  present  govern- 
ment would  you  dream  that  the  idiotic  sway  of  the 
bastard  Medici  was  once  observed  and  respected. 


Memories  oveu  the  Water.  195 

But  our  companions  are  anxious  to  resume  their 
travels,  and  we  bid  a  reluctant  adieu  to  the  fair  city 
of  Florence.  We  are  consoled  only  with  the  reflec- 
tion that  we  are  journeying  toward  the  "eternal  city," 
and  that  within  a  few  days  more  we  shall  stand  upon 
her  "seven  hills,"  and  view  with  our  own  eyes  the 
scene  of  former  greatness,  grandeur,  glory,  power. 
Our  company  consisted  of  seven  persons,  and  we 
traveled  by  "Vetturino."  That  is,  wc  engaged  a 
private  conveyance,  and  bargained  with  the  driver 
that,  for  a  certain  sum,  he  should  take  us,  by  such  a 
route  and  in  so  many  days,  from  Florence  to  Rome. 
This  is  much  the  most  pleasant  and  cheapest  mode  of 
traveling  in  Italy.  The  greater  portion  of  the  country 
through  which  we  passed  the  first  day  was  abundant 
in  beautiful  scenery.  Wc  went  skirting  along  the 
base  of  the  lowland  Apennines,  and  reached  Arezzo 
about  niirhtlUU,  having  come  a  distance  of  about 
forty  miles.  We  did  not  stop  to  see  the  frame  of  the 
man,  inclosed  in  the  brick  wall,  so  minutelv  and 
so  touchingly  described  by  the  American  author, 
lleadlcy.  Arezzo  is  famous  as  the  scene  of  many 
eventful  struggles  of  the  middle  ages.  Here  were, 
also,  born  Mceceuas,  Fetrarch,  and  other  men  of 
ancient  renown.  Early  on  the  following  morning  we 
were  again  on  our  wa}',  wending  along  the  left  side  of 
the  fertile  valley  of  Chiana.  About  noon  wc  reached 
the  village  of  Camuscia.  Here  we  rested  a  few  hours, 
and  while  dinner  was  in  course  of  preparation,  we 
made  an  excursion  afoot,  up  the  side  of  the  mountain, 


196  Memories  over  the  Water. 

to  the  old  town  of  Crotona.  Our  guide  first  led  us  to 
the  reputed  grave  of  Pythagoras;  a  little  green 
hillock,  with  a  few  loose  stones,  lying  without  the  city 
walls.  "We  bore  away  a  flower  as  a  memento.  Next 
we  entered  the  old  Etruscan  city,  and  proceeded  first 
to  the  cathedral,  where  we  saw  the  sarcophagus  of  the 
consul  Flaminius.  We  then  explored  the  museum, 
under  the  guidance  of  a  long-robed  priest,  and  found 
nothing  worthy  of  note  within  it,  excepting,  perhaps, 
its  famous  old  bronze  lamp,  that  was  dug  up  by 
somebody  somewhere,  some  long  time  ago.  From 
Cortona  we  had  a  delightful  view  of  lake  Thrasimene 
and  its  battle-field,  of  the  valley  of  Chiana,  and  several 
spurs  of  the  blue  and  misty  Apennines.  x\s  we  came 
out  of  the  gates  of  the  city  we  caught  a  glimpse  of  a 
beautiful  girl,  looking  out  from  her  window.  She 
had  espied  our  party  of  Americans,  and  being  con- 
scious of  the  beauty  of  her  fair  face,  she  graciously 
smiled  upon  us  as  we  passed.  Dinner  over  we  again 
resumed  our  route,  now  bordering  along  the  left  shore 
of  the  poetic  lake,  Thrasimene,  whose  sheeted  waters 
were  sleeping  calmly  in  the  golden  sunshine  of 
autumnal  beauty.  We  passed  immediately  over  the 
battle-ground,  where  Flaminius  and  his  Roman  cohorts 
went  down  under  the  charging  squadrons  of  the  victo- 
rious Hannibal. 

"  I  roam  by  Thrasimene's  lake,  in  the  defilea 
Fatal  to  Roman  rashness,  more  at  home  ; 
For  there  the  Carthaginian's  warlike  wiles 
Come  back  before  me,  as  his  skill  beguiles 


Memoriks  over  the  Water.  197 

The  host  between  the  mountain  and  tlie  shore, 

Where  courage  falls  in  her  despairing  files, 

And  torrents,  swollen  to  rivers  with  their  gore. 

Reek  through  the  sultry  plain,  with  legions  scattered  o'er." 

Reached   Passignano   and   rested    for    tlie   night. 

While  at  Camuscia,  our  merry  friend  P ,  having 

been  challenged  by  the  wager  of  his  expenses  down  to 
Rome,  by  the  patriarch  of  our  party,  to  kiss  the  bar- 
maid before  leaving  the  hotel,  accepted  the  challenge, 
and  vowed  that  we  should  see  him  win  the  wager 
before  leaving  the  dining-hall.  The  unsuspecting 
Susaimah  soon  came  in,  and  was  busily  engaged  in, 

removing  dishes,    plates,    etc.,  when   friend   P , 

with  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye,  and  his  jovial  face 
beaming  with  a  dare-devil  humor,  suddenly  slipped 
up  behind  this  nymph  of  the  kitchen,  and  throwing 
both  arms  around  her  neck,  imprinted  a  kiss  upon  her 
rosy  cheek,  that  sounded  like  the  echo  of  a  sixty-four 
pounder.  A  would-be  indignation  followed  this  ex- 
plosive expression  of  his  admiration,  which,  however, 
soon  yielded  to  the  burst  of  merriment  that  rose  from 
our  party,  on  witnessing  the  successful  achievement. 

Did  you  ever  tell  3'our  young  wife,  P ,  of  that 

adventure? 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 


On  leaving  Passignano,  we  soon  al'ter  passed 
through  the  curious  old  city  of  Perugia.  The  next 
object  of  interest  on  our  route  was  the  "  Grotto  di 
Volunni,"  called  the  largest  and  most  beautiful  in 
Etruria.  These  grottoes,  it  will  be  remembered,  are 
the  depositories  of  the  ashes  of  the  old  Romans,  and 
to  the  antiquary  are  exceedingly  interesting.  They 
are  generally  excavated  out  of  the  earth,  and  you 
descend  into  them  by  a  flight  of  stone  steps.  The 
Volunni  Grotto  we  found  composed  of  many  dark 
and  vaulted  chambers,  replete  with  cinerary  urns, 
Gorgon  heads,  iron  serpents,  and  Etruscan  inscrip- 
tions. "We  had  now  reached  the  valley  of  the  "  Yellow 
Tiber,"  and  erelong  passed  over  the  famous  river  by 
means  of  a  handsome  stone  bridge.  Separate  from 
its  historic  and  poetic  associations,  we  thought  the 
Tiber  a  very  insignificant  and  ugly  stream,  not  so 
large  nor  by  any  means  so  beautiful  as  the  Cumberland. 
We  next  passed  by  the  picturesque  city  of  Assissi, 
pitched  upon  the  mountain  side  to  our  left,  and 
reached  Foligno  that  evening  about  dusk.  Here  we 
were  delighted  to  find  a  clean  and  comfortable  hotel. 

On    the   following  morning  we  entered   upon    the 
(IDS; 


Memories   over  the  Water.  199 

"  Via  Flarainia,"  and  followed  its  course  throughout 
the  day.  AVc  passed  through  the  classic  valley  of 
Clitnmnus,  of  which  Virgil  had  thus  discoursed  to 
ns  in  our  school-boy  days — 

"  Hinc  albi,  Clitumne,  greges,  et  maxima  taurus 
Victima,  srepe  tuo  pcrfusi  flumine  sacro, 
Romanosad  templa  ileum  duxere  triumphos." 

Next  we  saw  the  fair  town  of  Trevi,  seated  on  the 
mountain  side,  its  white-walled  houses  glittering 
under  the  ravs  of  the  rising  sun.  Then  came  the 
pretty  little  temple,  dedicated  to  the  river-god  of 
Clitumnus,  whose  clear  and  crystal  waters  rise  from 
the  green  meadows  about  this  building.  This  temple, 
some  say,  was  the  Trebia  of  Pliny,  and  is  thus  de- 
scribed by  Byron  in  his  Childe  Harold — • 

"  But  thou,  Clitumne,  in  thy  s\reetest  wave 
Of  tlie  most  living  crystal  that  was  e'er 
The  haunt  of  river-nymph,  to  gaze  and  lave 
Her  limbs  where  nothing  liid  them,  thou  dost  rear 
Thy  grassy  banks,  whereon  the  milk-white  steer 
Grazes  ;  the  purest  god  of  gentle  waters  ! 
And  most  serene  of  aspect  and  most  clear  ; 
Surely  that  stream  was  unprofaned  by  slaughters  — 
A  mirror  and  a  bath  for  Beauty's  youngest  daughters. 
And  on  thy  happy  shore  a  temple  still, 
Of  small  and  delicate  proportions,  keeps, 
Upon  a  mild  declivity  of  hill, 
Its  memory  of  thee  ;  beneath  it  sweeps 
Thy  current's  calmness  ;  oft  from  out  it  leaps 
The  finny  darter,  with  the  glittering  scales. 
Who  dwells  and  revels  in  thy  glassy  deeps  ; 
While  chance  some  scalter'd  water-lily  sails 
Down  where  the  shallower  wave,  still  tells  its  bubbling  tales." 


200  Memories  over  the  Watkk. 

Having  left  our  names  inscribed  upon  this  object  of 
Byron's   especial  admiration,  we   left  the  fair   little 
temple  ;    and   erelong  reached  the  town  of  Spoleto, 
somewhat  famous  for  its  woolen   manufactures.     We 
stopped  for  a  few  hours   at  the   "Hotel  La  Posta," 
and  climbed  up  the  steep  hill  opposite  to  the  citadel, 
which  commands  one  of  the  most  extensive  views  in 
Italy,  embracing  in  its  compass  the  valley  Clitumnus, 
the  Apennines,  and  the  cities  of  Perugia,  Foligno  and 
Assissi.     Across    the   very   narrow   and    very   deep 
ravine  is  thrown  the  Aqueduct — a  stupendous  work, 
which  serves  the  double  purpose  of  water  conductor 
and   bridge.     It   is  built   upon  ten  arches  of  brick, 
its    height  is   243    feet,    and    its    length    615  feet. 
We   observed   that  the  windows  of  the  citadel  were 
filled  with   prisoners,  some   for  moral  and  some  for 
political  offenses. 

Bills  all  settled  we  were  again  en  route^  winding 
over  the  steep  ascent  of  Monte  Sommia,  whose  sum- 
mit is  3738  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  Along 
the  road-side  grew  in  great  profusion  the  wild  ilex, 
which  was  in  many  places  planted  and  trimmed  into 
beautiful  hedges.  Our  descent  presented  some  magni- 
ficent views,  as  we  wound  along  down  the  mountain 
road,  with  the  lofty  hills  on  either  hand,  and  before 
us  a  soft,  dim,  and  blue-tinted  vista,  with  a  valley  as 
fair  as  the  one  inhabited  by  the  discontented  Kasselas. 
That  night  we  reached  Terni,  and  on  the  morning 
following  Ave  were  up  bright  and  early,  and  off  to  see 
tlie  famous  "Falls  of  Terni,"  having  for  our  guide 


Memories  over  the  Water.  201 

Michsel  Angclo,  as  celebrated  among  travelers  in 
Italy  as  the  renowned  Stephen  among  the  visitors 
to  the  Mammoth  Cave.  We  passed  along  a  roman- 
tic pathway,  shaded  on  each  side  by  groves  of  ilex, 
and  bordering  on  the  rapids  below.  In  our  course 
we  passed  the  Villa  Graziani,  the  residence  of  Queen 
Caroline,  when  Princess  of  Wales.  The  scenery  all 
along  this  wild  valley  is  exceedingly  beautiful,  and 
to  one,  who  is  fond  of  the  sketch-book,  affords  a  fine 
field  for  the  exercise  of  his  pencil.  About  five  miles 
from  the  village  we  came  upon  the  Falls.  We  first 
climbed  the  tortuous  pathway  on  the  left  of  the  Velino, 
and  from  the  little  arbor  on  the  mountain  side  had 
the  best  view  of  the  falling  water.  It  must  have 
been  here  that  Byron  stood,  when  he  felt  the  inspi- 
ration of  his  glorious  description.  We  thought  the 
falls  exquisitely  beautiful,  and  only  wished  as  we 
paused  to  read  from  Childe  Harold  the  following 
lines,  that  he,  who  could  pen  such  glowing  thoughts, 
might  have  seen  and  described  the  might  and  majesty 
of  Niagara — 

"  The  roar  of  waters  !  from  the  headlong  height 
Velino  cleaves  the  wave-worn  precipice. 
The  fall  of  waters  !  rapid  as  the  light 
The  flashing  mass  foams  shaking  the  abyss  ; 
The  hell  of  waters !  where  they  howl  an.d  hiss  ; 
And  boil  in  endless  torture  ;  while  the  sweat 
Of  their  great  agony,  wrung  out  from  this 
Their  Phlegethon,  curls  round  the  rocks  of  jet. 
That  gird  the  gulf  around,  in  pitiless  horror  set. 
And  mounts  in  spray  the  skies,  and  thence  again 
Returns  in  an  unceasing  shower,  which  round, 

17 


202  Memoeies   ovek  the  Water. 

With  its  unemptied  cloud  of  gentle  rain. 

Is  an  eternal  April  to  the  ground, 

Making  it  all  one  emerald  : — how  profound 

The  gulf !  and  ho'w  the  giant  element 

From  rock  to  rock  leaps  with  delirious  bound. 

Crushing  the  cliffs,  which  downward  worn  and  rent 

With  his  fierce  footsteps,  yield  in  chasms  a  fearful  vent 

To  the  broad  column  which  rolls  on,  and  shows 

More  like  the  fountain  of  an  infant  sea, 

Torn  from  the  womb  of  mountains  by  the  throes 

Of  a  new  world,  than  only  thus  to  be 

Parent  of  rivers,  which  flow  gushingly, 

With  many  windings,  through  the  vale — look  back  I 

Lo  !  where  it  comes  like  an  eternity. 

As  if  to  sweep  all  things  in  its  track. 

Charming  the  eye  with  dread,  the  matchless  cataract. 

Horribly  beautiful !     But  on  the  verge. 

From  side  to  side,  beneath  the  glittering  morn. 

An  Iris  sits  amidst  the  infernal  surge, 

Like  hope  upon  a  death-bed,  and  unworn 

Its  steady  dyes,  while  all  around  is  torn 

By  the  distracted  waters,  bears  serene 

Its  brilliant  hues  with  all  their  beams  unshorn  ; — 

Resembling  mid  the  torture  of  the  scene. 

Love  watching  Madness  with  unalterable  mien." 

Having  satisfied  ourselves  with  the  falls  we  now 
returned  to  the  village.  Terni  we  found  to  be  a 
thriving  little  place,  where  they  manufacture  prin- 
cipally silken  and  woolen  goods,  and  contains  ?,  popu- 
lation of  some  9,000  souls.  It  boasts  itself  the  birth- 
place of  Tacitus  the  historian,  Tacitus  the  emperor, 
and  Florian  the  emperor.  Many  travelers  make  it 
a  point  to  tarry  awhile  at  Terni,  and  thence  make 
excursions  about  in  its  neighborhood.     As  a  curious 


Memouii^s  ovek  the  Watek,  203 

instance  wc  rcmcmbcrod  that  our  friend  Johnstone, 
on  looking  over  the  register  of  the  Hotel,  found  there 
the  names  of  his  father,  his  mother  and  himself, 
dated  in  the  year  1837.  lie  was  at  that  time  a  mere 
child  and  in  company  with  his  parents  was  making 
the  tour  of  Europe.  He  purchased  the  leaf  of  the 
book  for  a  paul,  and  took  it  as  a  memento  of  Terni, 
About  one  o'clock  wc  were  again  on  our  way,  and  a 
ride  of  some  two  hours  brought  us  to  Narni,  which  is 
most  beautifully  situated.  From  the  village  we  went 
into  the  valley  to  have  a  look  at  the  "  Bridge  of 
Augustus,"  which  we  found  to  be  a  magnificent  old 
ruin.  One  of  its  massive  and  well  built  arches  was 
still  standing  entire,  a  grim  old  monument  to  its  ancient 
architect.  This  vast  work  of  marble  masonry  was 
built  by  Augustus  to  allow  the  Flaminian  way  a  pas- 
sage over  the  river  Kar,  whose  narrow  valley  it  here 
spanned  at  an  immense  height  over  the  rushing  waters 

below.     McG ,  here  had  in  tow  a  good-natured 

Italian  youth  as  a  guide,  and  took  great  delight  in 
making  him  dance  and  turn  somersets — for  which 
the  promise  of  a  few  coppers  was  ample  inducement. 
One  of  the  first  things  which  strikes  the  American 
traveler  in  Italy  is  the  bleak  and  desolate  appearance 
of  its  villages.  They  look  the  very  picture  of  a  man- 
abandoned,  God-forsaken  wreck,  and  the  few  mise- 
rable wretches  who  crawl  through  their  cold  and 
gloomy  streets,  seem  the  last  lingering  remnant  of 
wasting  humanity. 


CHA.PTEII    XXXII. 

From  the  village  of  Narni  we  proceeded  along  a 
beautiful  road,  passing  through  tlie  town  of  Otricoli, 
and  again  crossing  the  Tiber  by  a  bridge,  built  in  the 
time  of  Augustus.  Immediately  after  we  entered  the 
village  of  Borghetto,  with  its  moldering  old  fortress, 
while  on  our  left  lay  the  level  plain  on  which  the  gal- 
lant McDonald  so  completely  routed  the  Neapolitan 
army,  under  Mack  the  Incapable,  whose  force  thrice 
numbered  that  of  the  French  Marshal.  Monte  Soracto 
now  began  to  form  a  very  prominent  object  of 
interest  along  the  wayside,  its  craggy  sides  towering 
abruptly  up  from  out  the  plain  on  our  left.  This 
mountain  has  a  name  upon  the  pages  of  both  ancient 
and  modern  poetry. 

"  Vides  ut.  alta  stet  nive  candidum 

Soracte." — Hoeace. 
Also  — 

"  The  loue  Soracte's  heights  displayed. 
Not  now  in  snow,  which  asks  the  lyric  Roman's  aid 
For  our  remembrance,  and  from  out  the  plain 
Heaves  like  a  long-swept  wave  about  to  break, 
And  ou  the  curl  hangs  pausing." — Childe  Harold. 

Next  we  came  to  Civita  Castellana,  crossing  over  a 
bridge  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  above  the  bottom 


Mp:mories   ovku  tiik  Watkk.  205 

of  the  ravine.  This  town  contains  a  population  of 
some  two  thousand  eight  hundred  inhabitants,  a  fine 
fortress,  and  some  interesting  remains  of  the  old 
Etruscan  architecture.  It  was  fired  by  the  French, 
in  1799,  and  nearly  reduced  to  ruins.  Then  came  the 
hotel  of  "  Lc  Sette  Vene,"  where  we  rested  for  the 
night,  and  within  twenty-two  miles  of  Home.  Left 
on  the  following  morning,  about  sunrise,  all  impatient 
for  the  first  glimpse  of  the  Eternal  City.  Between 
Baccano  and  La  Storta,  from  an  elevated  point,  we 
caught  sight  of  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's 

"  Oh  !  Rome  !  my  country !  city  of  the  soul ! 
The  orphans  of  the  heart  must  turn  to  thee. 
Lone  mother  of  dead  empires  I  and  control 
In  their  shut  breasts  their  petty  misery. 
What  are  our  woes  and  sufferance  ?     Come  and  see 
The  cypress,  hear  the  owl  and  plod  j'our  way 
O'er  steps  of  broken  thrones  and  temples  !     Ye 
Whose  agonies  are  evils  of  a  day, 
A  world  is  at  our  feet  as  fragile  as  our  clay. 
The  Niobe  of  nations  !     There  she  stands 
Childless  and  crownless  in  her  voiceless  woe  ; 
An  empty  urn  within  her  withered  hands. 
Whose  holy  dust  was  scattered  long  ago." 

Again  crossing  the  Tiber,  by  the  "  Ponte  Molle," 
built  upon  the  foundation  of  the  ancient  "  Pons 
Milvius,"  we  proceeded  onward,  and  soon  reached 
the  "  Porta  del  Popolo."  Here  our  passports  were 
surrendered  into  the  hands  of  the  villainous  oflScials ; 
but  a  bribe  of  ten  pauls  freed  us  from  an  examination 
of  ])aggage  at  the  Dogana.     We  had  entered  the  city 


206  Memories   over  the  Water. 

walls,  and  were  in  Rome,  that  city  whereon  time  has 
showered  down  its  ages,  but  which  yet  stands,  though 
only  a  shattered  shell,  a  wasted  wreck  riven  from  the 
glories  of  the  past.  Up  to  this  time  we  had  enjoyed 
the  balmy  air,  the  blue  skies,  and  blushing  fields 
of  Italy.  But  now  a  change  had  come  over  the  face 
of  nature,  and  nothing  but  cloud  and  rain,  filthy 
streets,  and  dingy  buildings  greeted  our  advent  to  the 
Seven-hilled  City.  "We  first  procured  rooms  at  the 
"  Hotel  d'Europe,"  but  on  the  next  day  moved  our 
cparters  to  "Hotel  d'Angleterre." 

Our  first  adventure  in  Home  was  of  rather  an 
amusing  character,  in  fact  not  at  all  suited  to  the 
dignity  nor  to  the  poetry  of  this  Queen  of  the  Past. 
But  to  the  adventure.  On  Saturday  morning,  Novem- 
ber 1st,  we  went  to  the  Sistine  Chapel,  to  see  the  Pope 
celebrate  Mass.  "We  soon  reached  the  Vatican,  and 
mounting  the  long  fiight  of  gradually-ascending  steps, 
we  stood  with  a  considerable  crowd,  in  the  anteroom, 
awaiting  the  opening  of  the  doors  of  the  chapel. 
Now  we  had  heard  it  said,  that  without  a  dress-coat, 
no  one  would  be  permitted  to  enter  the  chapel  on  this 
occasion.  But  our  wardrobe  at  the  time  did  not  boast 
a  dress-coat,  and  it  was  with  some  misgivings  that  we 
looked  upon  the  many  swallow-tails  that  surrounded 
our  unassuming  frock.  Instead,  too,  of  imitating  the 
device  of  some  others,  whom  we  saw,  of  pinning  up 
the  corners  of  the  frock  into  the  cut  of  the  dress-coat, 
we  very  honestly  hung  out  our  true  colors,  determined 
to  effect  an  entrance,  if  the  expression  of  an  outward 


Memokies  over  the  Water.  207 

assurance  would  accomplish  it.  At  length  the  Swiss 
Body-Guard,  rigged  out  like  a  company  of  harlequins 
in  their  colors  and  stripes,  and  armed  with  swords 
and  long  pikes,  marched  in  and  took  their  respective 
stations,  as  sentinels,  assigned  them  by  the  officer  in 
command.  The  doors  were  now  thrown  open,  and 
the  crowd  began  to  push  in.  We  would  not,  how- 
ever, seem  very  solicitous,  and  so  quietly  followed  on 
behind,  with  the  utmost  nonchalance  that  we  could 
assume.  But,  alas !  as  we  put  our  foot  upon  the 
threshold  of  the  door,  our  course  was  suddenly 
arrested,  and  our  gravity  totally  upset,  by  one  of 
the  sturdy  sentinels  opposing  our  further  progi-ess, 
and  accounting  for  the  rudeness  of  his  conduct  by  the 
simple  repetion  of — "Ilabito!  habito!"  pointing  at 
tlie  same  time  to  our  unfortunate  frock.  Now  friend 
Price  was  also  along,  and  in  the  same  predicament 
with  ourself ;  but  by  tucking  his  coat-tail,  and  keep- 
ing in  the  center  of  the  crowd,  he  had  managed  very 
adroitly  to  smuggle  himself  in,  under  cover  of  the 
rush,  while  we,  for  our  independence,  were  turned 
back.  Nothing  daunted,  however,  we  went  below; 
borrowed  a  pin  from  one  of  the  guard,  who  chuckled 
at  the  idea  of  the  cheat,  and  even  assisted  us  in 
making  the  metamorphose,  and  returned  with  our 
counterfeit  coat-tail  to  make  a  second  trial.  But  we 
did  not  now  have  the  advantage  of  the  crowd,  and 
beside,  our  perseverance  at  the  first  had  attracted  the 
guard's  attention  to  our  person,  and  so  our  disguise 
was  forthwith   detected,  and  the  wretch  obstinately 


208  Memories    over  the  Water. 

persisted  in  refusing  ns  entrance  thus  sailing  under 
false  colors.  Wc  now  began  to  think  our  chances  for 
seeing  the  Pope  that  day  rather  meager ;  but  were 
still  determined  to  go  in,  if  artifice  could  do  what 
honesty  had  failed  in.  Just  at  this  time  a  stranger 
came  along  with  a  dress-coat,  but  having  a  walking- 
cane  in  his  hand.  This  latter  was  also  a  contraband 
article,  and  the  guard  rushed  after  its  possessor  with 
the  purpose  of  turning  him  back.  Now,  thought  we, 
is  the  time  for  a  bold  move  ;  and  immediately  acting 
upon  the  suggestion,  we  glided  softly  in  behind  the 
sentinel,  in  pursuit  of  the  man  with  the  cane.  But 
the  fates  seemed  against  us  ;  we  were  again  foiled, 
and  both  the  strano-er  and  ourself  were  brouf^ht  back 
to  the  door  by  the  impervious  sentinel,  who  would 
not  be  moved  either  by  love  or  money,  and  who  was 
now  waxing  wroth  at  our  obstinate  encroachments. 
"We  had  now  almost  despaired  ;  both  fair  means  and 
foul  had  been  tried  without  avail ;  nothing  but  the 
swallow-tail  would  do,  and  that  we  did  not  have. 
But  just  at  this  crisis  of  affairs,  a  kind-hearted  priest 
who  was  standing  by,  and  who  had  been  witness  to 
our  several  shifts,  stepped  in  and  spoke  to  the  Captain 
of  the  Guard.  This  was  all-sufScient.  The  courteous 
soldier  immediately  came  out,  and  taking  us  under 
his  wing,  the  frock-tail  passed  triumphantly  through. 
A  blessing,  say  we,  on  the  head  of  that  kind  priest, 
and  worthy  captain. 

Being  now  fairly  entered,  we  took  our  seat,  and 
awaited  with  some  impatience  the  entrance  of  Pius 


Memories   over  Tiit:  Water,  209 

IX.  One  by  one  the  gray-headed  and  decrepid  car- 
dinals came  dropping  in,  with  their  red  silk  caps 
upon  their  white  locks,  and  fullowcd  by  two  or  three 
train-bearers  to  hold  up  their  long  and  flowing  red 
robes.  Finally  about  twenty  of  these  goodly  veterans 
had  assembled,  as  also  a  number  of  English  and 
American  spectators,  a  few  ladies,  several  foreign 
ambassadors  with  their  attaches,  and  a  small  sprink- 
ling of  the  French  soldiery. 

The   Sistine   Chapel  is  not  at  all  striking  in  its 

appearance,  being  quite  small,  and  by  no  means  so 

rich  in  its  internal  ornaments  as  we  had  been  led  to 

suppose.     After  patiently  waiting  for  about  one  hour, 

the  choir  suddenly  struck  up,  and  the  Pope,  entering 

by  a  side-door  to  the  right,  marched  slowly  out  before 

the  altar,  and  meekly  bowing  as  he  passed,  kept  on 

his  way,  and  took  his  seat  under  a  silken  canopy  on 

the  left.     Here  he  received  the  cardinals,  who  one  by 

one  approaching,  had  the  honor  of  kissing — not  his 

toe — but  his  covered  hand.    The  choir  still  continued 

its  chanting ;  and  occasionally  the  peculiar  voice  of 

the  eunuch   might   be  distinguished,  rising  in  clear 

mellow  tones  above  the  swell  of  the  dcep-toncd  organ. 

At  times  one  of  the  priests  would    respond,  while 

now  and  then  the  Pope  himself  would  rise  from  his 

seat — when  a  couple  of  cardinals  would  elevate  the 

pontifical   bonnet  —  and   muttering   a   few  words  in 

Latin  sit  down  again.     Meanwhile  the  incense  was 

being  burned  until  the  whole  room  was  filled  witii  its 

fragrance.     During   the   celebration    a  young   man. 


210  Memories   over  the  Water. 

dressed  somewliat  differently  from  the  rest,  and  who, 
we  were  told,  was  a  Roman  noble,  arose  from  his 
seat  and  made  an  address  to  his  Holiness,  standing 
with  his  cap  on.  We  could  not  comprehend  what 
was  said  ;  but  the  gesture  of  the  young  orator  was 
very  good,  and  his  delivery  firm  and  graceful.  But 
at  last  the  ceremony  was  concluded,  and  we  were 
glad  to  escape,  making  our  way  from  the  Sistine 
Cliapel  into  the  Church  of  St.  Peter. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 


On  the  morning  of  the  second  day  of  November, 
1851,  we  started  out  from  our  hotel,  and  made  our 
■way  along  the  Corso  up  to  the  Coliseum.  We 
were,  indeed,  in  Home — that  one  thought  was  ever 
crowding  on  our  mind,  and  with  the  poet  we  were 
wont  to  say: 

And  I  am  there  ! 

Oh  I  little  thought  I,  when  in  school  I  sat, 

A  school-boy  on  his  bench,  at  early  dawn, 

Glowing  with  Roman  story,  I  should  live 

To  tread  the  Appian,  once  an  avenue. 

Of  monuments  most  glorious,  palaces. 

Their  doors  sealed  up  and  silent  as  the  night — 

The  dwellings  of  the  illustrious  dead. 

The  Corso,  so  called  from  the  races  that  are  run 
upon  it,  is  the  principal  street  in  Home,  running 
directly  through  the  city,  leading  from  the  Capitoline 
Hill  or  thereabouts,  down  to  the  Piazza  del  Popolo. 
During  the  carnival  a  company  of  horses,  unbridled 
and  unbacked,  are  started  from  the  Capitoline,  and 
made  to  run  to  the  Piazza,  amid  the  clattering  of  tin 
pans  and  infernal  yells,  going  at  break-neck  speed 
through  the  entire  length  of  the  city.     Proceeding  up 

(211) 


212  Memories   ovek  the  Water. 

this  street,  we  came  first  to  the  "  Basilica  of  Con- 
stantine,"  with  its  huavy,  towering  arches  of  brick ; 
the  old  ruin  now  converted  into  a  ha3"-market.  A 
shower  of  rain  coming  up  we  sought  shelter  under 
the  walls  of  the  old  Roman  Amphitheater.  Yes !  we 
stood  within  that  arena,  on  which  have  been  enacted 
scenes  of  horror  and  immortal  courage.  We  have 
stood  there  under  the  broad  blaze  of  the  noon-day 
sun,  and  in  the  calm  hour  of  the  silent  night.  The 
moon  shone  down  on  the  mighty  ruin,  as  we  strolled 
under  the  far-reaching  shadows,  pouring  a  flood  of 
silver  light  through  the  craggy  windows,  and  silence 
sat  like  a  mantle  on  the  scene,  broken  only  by  the 
challenge  of  the  soldier  on  guard,  or  by  the  hooting 
of  the  owl  upon  the  Palatine.  Yes  !  night  and  soli- 
tude are  the  fit  trappings  of  decaying  splendor.  At 
such  a  time  the  Coliseum  encircles  you  like  some  vast, 
unearthly  thing,  one  sees  in  dreams.  Up,  up  to 
the  very  heavens,  rise  the  dark  remnants  of  its 
Titanic  form.  The  black  depths  of  its  arches  ;  the 
shadowy  outline  of  its  lofty  walls  ;  the  solitude  of  its 
myriad  scats  ;  the  sight  of  the  cold  stars  above  ;  the 
huge  ruin  around — all  conspire  to  impress  the  mind 
that 

While  stands  the  Coliseum  Rome  shall  stand  ! 
When  falls  the  Coliseum,  Rome  shall  fall ! 
And  when  Rome  falls — the  world  ! 

But  what  a  tumult  of  thoughts  come  rushing  on 
the  mind  as  one  stands  upon  the  sandy  arena  of  the 
Coliseum ;     where   tlie    godlike    martyr    hath    died, 


Memoriics  ovkk  'jnic  Waiku.  213 

because  lie  wouUl  not  deny  his  tUith  ;  wlicrc  woman, 
frail  and  fickle  woman,  hatli  imflincliingly  met  the 
fagot  and  the  wild  beast,  rather  than  surrender 
her  hope  of  heaven  ;  where  the  daring  gladiator 
hath  drooped  his  dying  head  ;  his  immortal  spirit 
sent  a  victim  to  the  cruel  pleasures  of  a  barbarous 
age,  and  where  the  wild  denizen  of  the  forest, 
foaming  with  rage  and  famished  with  hunger,  hath 
plunged  to  meet  the  keen  steel  of  his  brave  and 
active  combatant,  weltering  the  ground  with  his 
gore. 

How  mournful,  yet  how  beautiful,  does  the  spirit  of 
Byron  haunt,  with  its  imperishable  verse,  this  city  of 
the  soul.  There  is  scarcely  a  ruin,  tomb  or  temple  to 
which  his  genius  has  not  given  a  deeper  charm.  The 
voice  of  Manfred  speaks  in  the  sepulchral  moonlight 
of  the  Coliseum,  and  the  wandering  Harold  muses 
over  the  melancholy  destiny  of  earthly  glory  in  the 
Palace  of  the  Cnssars ;  here,  in  this  solemn  scene  of  a 
whole  country's  desolation,  his  own  passion  and  his 
faults  are  dumb,  and  in  all  the  beauty  of  a  holy 
calling  he  lays  the  oflcring  of  his  inspiration  and  his 
sorrow  on  a  nation's  urn.  If  the  errors  of  a  way- 
ward disposition,  and  the  abuse  of  higli  talents  may 
be  atoned  for,  this  might,  alone,  obtain  it.  So  wo 
thought,  at  least,  as  we  stood,  by  night,  and  looking 
on  the  Coliseum,  thought  on  these  lines : 

I  do  reuicmbcr  nic,  that  in  rny  youth, 
Wlicn  I  was  ■w^andcriiig — upon  such  a  night, 
I  stood  within  the  Coliseum's  walls. 


214  Memories  over  the  Water. 

Midst  the  chief  relics  of  almighty  Rome  ; 
The  trees,  ■svhich  grew  along  the  broken  arches, 
Waved  dark  in  the  blue  midnight,  and  the  stars 
Shone  through  the  rents  of  ruin  ;  from  afar 
The  watch-dog  bayed  beyond  the  Tiber,  and 
More  near,  from  out  the  Cajsar's  Palace  came 
The  owl's  long  cry,  and  interruptedly. 
Of  distant  sentinels  the  fitful  song 
Began  and  died  upon  the  distant  wind. 

According  to  the  data  of  liistory,  the  amphitheater 
was  founded  by  Vespasian,  A.  D.  T2,  and  completed 
by  Titus,  A.  D.  80.  At  its  dedication  five  thousand 
wild  beasts  were  slain  in  the  arena.  In  its  perfect 
state  it  was  capable  of  seating  eighty-seven  thousand 
spectators.  From  the  Coliseum  we  next  went  to  the 
old  Roman  Forum  : 

The  forum,  -where  the  immortal  accents  glow — 

And  still  the  eloquent  air  breathes,  burns  with  Cicero. 

Excavations  were,  at  the  time,  being  made  upon  the 
old  site  of  the  Forum,  and  many  objects  of  interest 
had  been  revealed  within  the  past  few  years.  Tri- 
umphal arches  and  scattered  groups  of  marble  pillars 
stood  now  about  us  ;  memorials,  sad  and  silent,  of 
the  days  that  have  passed.  Next  we  visited  the  Chapel, 
built  upon  the  site  of  the  prison,  where,  according  to 
the  tradition,  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul  were  confined. 
While  in  this  consecrated  building  Col.  Kimmel,  of 
Baltimore  —  the  Pickwick  of  our  party  —  had  his 
pocket  picked  of  his  handkerchief,  and  the  humorous 
laments  he  made  on  losing  such  an  article  in  such  a 
place,   caused   us   to  laugh  until   our   sides    ached. 


Memories  over  the  Water.  215 

Ascending  to  the  summit  of  the  Capitoline  we  saw 
the  "Senator  of  Rome"  as  he  came  out  of  his  Palace 
to  get  into  his  carriage.  His  coach,  like  those 
of  the  Cardinals  and  other  high  officers  in  Rome, 
was  exceedingly  gaudy,  with  fancifully-dressed  driver 
and  footman.  Two  other  carriages  containing  his 
attaches,  generally  follow  the  coach  of  his  excellency. 

On  the  following  day  we  set  out  on  a  systematic 
survey  of  what  is  yet  left  of  the  once  glorious 
inheritance  of  Rome.  First  we  saw  the  Church  of 
Santa  Maria  del  Popolo,  where  is  the  tomb  of  the 
Princess  Odescalchi.  A  well-executed  marble  lion 
is  represented  as  looking  up  at  an  eagle  perched 
up  in  a  bronze  tree  above  his  head,  while  a  long 
mantle  of  porphyry  sweeps  in  heavy  folds  down 
to  its  base.  There  is,  also,  here  a  horrible  image  of 
death. 

Standing  in  front  of  the  obelisk,  in  the  center  of 
the  "  Piazza  del  Popolo,"  and  looking  up  toward  the 
city,  you  face  the  Corso,  which  is  flanked  on  the  right 
by  the  Ripetta,  and  on  the  left  by  the  Babuino — three 
of  the  principal  streets  in  Rome,  all  of  which  termi- 
nate, as  the  radii  of  a  circle,  in  the  Piazza  del  Popolo. 
On  the  left  rises  the  Pincian  Hill,  the  favorite  drive 
and  promenade  of  the  modern  Romans. 

Went  now  to  the  studio  of  Canova,  then  occupied 
by  one  of  his  pupils.  Saw  here  some  beautiful  sculp- 
tures; especially  an  Eve,  standing  in  an  attitude  of 
sorrow  and  remorse,  while  the  bitten  apple  lies  at  her 
feet,  and  the  conquering  serpent  is  coiled  around  a 


216  Memories  over  the  Water. 

tree  at  her  side.  Also,  a  very  pretty  little  group, 
called,  Time  Lost.  It  represents  a  little  boy,  of  white 
marble,  busily  and  wonderingly  engaged  in  the 
endeavor  to  wash  away  the  sooty  color  of  a  young 
African's  face.  Went  into  the  Church  of  "San 
Lorenzo,  in  Lucina,"  to  see  the  celebrated  Crucifixion 
by  Guido  Reni.  As  we  entered  the  Priest  was  per- 
forming service,  and  the  painting  w^as  vailed ;  yet  a 
few  coppers  from  our  "valet  de  place"  sufficed  to 
remove  the  curtain,  and  we  had  a  fair  view  of  the 
famous  picture.  We  could  not  discover  any  extraor- 
dinary beauty  in  the  work,  and  would  not  ape  an 
admiration  that  we  could  not  feel,  simply  because 
the  painting  was  a  celebrated  one.  Went  next  to 
Monte  Citerio — a  fine  Piazza.  Saw  there  the  solar 
obelisk,  erected  at  Helipolis  by  Psammeticus  the  first, 
king  of  Egypt,  and  brought  to  Rome  and  placed  iu 
the  Campus  Martins,  by  Augustus.  Saw  the  old 
temple  of  Antoninus,  with  its  eleven  Corinthian 
columns,  serving  as  a  front  to  the  present  custom- 
house. Went  into  several  other  churches;  among 
them  "  Santa  Maria  in  Yia  Lata,"  supposed  to  be 
built  on  the  spot  once  occupied  by  the  house  in  w4iicli 
St.  Paul  lived ;  also,  the  Church  of  St.  Mark,  where 
the  body  of  the  Evangelist  is  deposited ;  also,  the 
Pantheon  —  "Pride  of  Rome"  —  built  by  Marcus 
Agrippa,  A.  D.  2G.  This  famous  building  has  passed 
from  the  Pagan  to  the  Christian  worship,  and  stands 
one  of  the  most  wonderful  monuments  of  antiquity. 
Its   vast    dome    is    its    chief   attraction.      Next  we 


Memories  over  the  Water.  217 

ascended   the  Capitoline  Hill.     The  i'iiizza  is  orna- 
mented with  a  fine  fountain,  uitli  colossal  statues,  in  a 
recumbent  position  on  either  hand,  allegorical  represen- 
tations of  the  Nile  and  the  Tiber.     In  the  center  is  the 
bronze  equestrian  statue  of  Marcus  Aurelius,  acknowl- 
edged to  be  the   best  piece  of  bronze  workmanship 
in   the  world.     On  the  balustrade,  at  the  top  of  the 
steps    leading    to    the   Piazza,    are    colossal    statues 
of  Castor  and  Pollux,  verv  old  and  somewhat  sliat- 
tered.     On  the  right-hand  you  have  the  Senatorial 
J^ilace,  in   front    the    Tower,   and    on    the    left    the 
Museum.     In  the  Pahace  we  saw  the  bronze  wolf, 
suckling  Romulus  and  Pemus,  alluded  to  by  Byron 
in  Ciiilde  Harold.     The  Palace  contains,  also,  many 
fine  frescoes,  representing  eventful  eras  in  the  history 
of  the  Empire.     Also,  went  over   to   the  Museum. 
In  the  court-yard,  beside  a  little  fonntaiu,  reclines 
the  somber  statue   of   old  Ocean.     At  the   foot  of 
the  stairs  is  the  statue  of  Mars,  colossal  and  striking 
in  its  proportions,  and  rich  in  its  elaborately-carved 
accouterments.      Among    myriad    other    interesting 
objects  that  the  Museum  contains,  we  may  mention 
the    Capitoline   Yenus,    Pliny's    Doves,    Loeda    and 
the  Swan,  Cupid  and  Psyche,  antique  Sarcophagi, 
Antinous,  busts  and  vases  innumerable,  and,  finally, 
the  statue  of  the  Dying  Gladiator.     Of  all  the  sculp- 
ture we  have  ever  seen  we  give  the   palm   to   this 
immortal  piece.     Byron  has  again,  over  this  statue, 
shed  the  light  of  his  genius: 
IS 


218  Memokies  ovek  the  Water. 

I  see  before  me  the  gladiator  lie  ; 
He  leans  upon  his  hand — his  manly  brow 
Consents  to  death,  but  conquers  agony. 
And  his  drooped  head  sinks  gradually  low — 
And  through  his  side  the  last  drops — ebbing  slow 
From  the  red  gash — fall  heavy  one  by  one. 
Like  the  first  of  a  thunder-shower  ;  and  now 
The  arena  swims  around  him — he  is  gone. 
Ere   ceased   the   inhuman   shout,   which   hail'd   the   wretch 
who  won. 


CHAPTEH    XXXIV. 


The  Tarpeian  Rock  we  found  situated  in  the  rear 
of  a  small  garden  on  the  Capitoline  Hill.  Its  height 
is  by  no  means  so  great,  as  the  dreamer  in  classic 
shades  would  probably  imagine.  Sam  Patch  would 
laugh  at  such  a  leap.  Put  there  is  pointed  out  the 
famous  spot — 

The  steep  Tarpeian,  fittest  goal  of  Treason's  race, 

The  Promontory  ■whence  the  Traitor's  leap,  cured  all  ambition. 

Next  we  ascended  the  Tower  of  the  Capitol,  and  had 
an  excellent  view  of  both  ancient  and  modern  Rome. 
We  had  the  seven  hills  here  pointed  out  to  us  by  name; 
they  are  not  easily  distinguished:  our  "Capitoline" 
surpasses  them  all  in  point  of  size  and  beauty.  We 
visited  next  the  Protomotheca,  a  suite  of  rooms,  con- 
taining a  great  many  busts,  all  of  them  either  by  the 
hand  of  Canova  or  of  some  one  of  his  pupils.  Thence 
we  proceeded  to  the  Mamertiue  Prison,  and  descended 
into  the  dark  dungeon,  where,  according  to  the  Roman 
Catholic  story,  both  St.  Paul  and  St.  Peter  were  con- 
fined. We  drank  from  out  the  spring  of  water,  thai 
rises  up  from  'the  floor  of  the  bottom-most  cell,  and 
which  tradition  tells  miraculously  sprung  up  that  St. 

Paul    might  baptize  his    converts    to   the  Christian 

(219) 


220  Memories    over  the  Water. 

rclio'ion  in  its  holy  waters.  Our  guide  presuming, 
perhaps,  upon  our  ignorance  of  Scriptural  History,  or 
perhaps  himself  deceived,  went  so  far  as  to  point  out 
the  very  door,  by  which  the  angel  conducted  St.  Peter 
from  Prison.  But  in  this  dark  vault  there  is  a  repre- 
sentation in  bas-relief  on  brass,  showing  St.  Peter 
and  St.  Paul,  both  in  chains,  baptising  the  converted 
prisoners.  St.  Paul  is  pouring  the  water,  from  his 
cap,  upon  the  heads  of  his  repentant  brethren.  In  this 
dungeon  it  is  stated  and  believed  that  Jugurtha  was 
starved  to  death. 

On   the  following   morning  we  started  off  for  the 
church  of  San  Carlo  to  witness  the  celebration  of  some 
festival,  in  which  the  Pope  himself  was  to  officiate. 
On  each  side  of  the  Corso  we  found  a  long  line  of 
soldiers  drawn  up,  while  from  out  the  windows  above 
floated  white    and   red    banners.     One    by  one  the 
gaudy   equipages   of   the   Cardinals   rolled   up,    and 
erelong  the  Pope  himself  came,  riding  in  his  richly- 
gilded    coach,  drawn  by  six  black   horses,  in  fancy 
trappings,  and  followed  by  a  troop  of  dragoons.     As 
the  Pope  passed  between  the  lines,  in  his  carriage, 
the  soldiery  went  down  on  their  knees  before  him, 
as   did   also  the  motley   crowd   of    spectators.     On 
reaching  the  church  his  Holiness  descended  from  his 
coach,  and  under  a  close  escort,  entered  into  a  private 
apartment   of  the   building.     All    now  entered    the 
church,  and  soon  after  the  Pope  appeared,  entering  by 
a  side  door,  and  sitting  on  a  throne,  that  was  borne 
on  the  shoulders  of  his  attendants,  all  dressed  in  long 


Memories   over  the  Water.  221 

red  rr)bcs.  On  each  side  ol'  liiiii  was  carried  a  broad 
bunch  of  the  featliers  of  the  peacock,  lie  waved  his 
hand  over  the  assembly  as  he  passed,  muttering  mean- 
w'liile  his  blessing  and  his  prayers.  Again  the  crowd 
bent  their  knees  before  him  ;  but  as  it  did  not  appear 
that  it  was  required  of  the  Protestant  stranger  to  make 
this  lowly  salutation  we  stood  upon  our  feet,  though 
his  Holiness  passed  within  a  few  feet  of  our  position. 
We  this  time  had  a  i'air  view  of  his  countenance. 
He  seemed  to  us  a  man  of  some  sixty  years,  and  has 
regular  and  rather  handsome  features,  though  around 
the  corners  of  his  mouth  there  seemed  to  lurk  an  easy, 
self-complacent  expression.  On  reaching  the  altar 
the  attendants  carefully  deposited  their  precious  bur- 
den, and  the  service  began.  It  was  much  the  same 
as  that  which  we  had  witnessed  at  the  Sistine  chapel, 
and  consequently  we  were  well  willing  to  depart  on 
its  conclusion. 

The  streets  of  Rome  we  found  horribly  filthy.  So 
far  as  we  came  in  contact  with  the  better  class  of  her 
citizens,  we  thought  them  courteous,  civil,  and  intelli- 
gent. But  beggars  are  abundant,  and  a  great  majority 
of  the  populace  look  ragged  and  dirty.  In  liome,  as 
elsewhere  in  Italy,  you  arc  liable  to  be  cheated  if  you 
are  not  ever  watchful — robbed  if  vou  are  ne<"lio;ent, 
and  assassinated  if  you  recklessly  expose  3'ourself. 
Of  the  ladies  of  Rome  Me  saw  several  very  beautiful. 
But  as  a  general  thing  there  is  a  grossness  about 
them  by  no  means  agreeable  to  a  iiistidious  taste. 
Beside  the  blue  eyes  of  America,  the  dark-eyed  seno- 


222  !Mi;mokiks   ovkk  thk  Watkk. 

ritas  of  Italy  would  seem  positively  ugly.  Indeed  in 
no  land,  which  our  foot  hath  trod,  did  we  find  that 
degree  of  general  beauty  and  intelligence  that  grace 
"this  home  of  the  heart  —  the  land  of  the  "West." 
But  under  the  combined  influence  of  despotism  and 
ignorance — under  the  galling  chains  of  a  political 
slavery  and  a  religious  thraldom — the  Roman  citizen 
has  not  even  the  shadow  of  his  former  glory.  The 
poor,  abject  creature  that  now  creeps  along  her  streets 
would  hardly  recognize  his  own  ancestry  in  that  day, 
when  the  triumphal  procession  was  seen  wending  its 
rich  and  glittering  length  along  the  Via  Sacra  to  the 
Capitol,  bending  under  the  weight  of  golden  spoils, 
and  graced  by  captive  kings  and  princes — humbled  at 
the  chariot- wheel  of  the  Roman  conqueror. 

On  Wednesday,  November  5th,  we  made  a  thorough 
exploration  of  St.  Peter's.  This  building  is  computed 
to  be  613  feet  in  length,  434  in  total  height,  covers 
240,000  square  feet,  and  its  erection  cost  50,000,000 
dollars.  We  first  ascended  to  the  roof,  by  a  winding 
staircase,  up  which  a  lady  may  ride  on  horseback. 
The  roof  of  St.  Peter's  afibrds  a  fine  view  of  Rome. 
We  then  mounted  to  the  first  gallery  of  the  dome, 
which  for  the  purpose  of  a  "whispering  gallery"  is 
much  better  than  St.  Paul's  at  London.  Again  we 
ascended  and  reached  the  second  gallery.  As  one 
looks  down  from  this  lofty  balcony  upon  the  interior 
of  the  church,  objects  grow  indistinct,  and  men  seem 
like  pigmies  moving  over  the  tasselated  floor  below. 
The  whole  of  this  most  wonderful  dome  is  covered 


Memories  over  tue  "Water.  223 

with  mosaic  work  of  the  finest  order.  But  again  wo 
mount  upward,  and  here  is  the  outside  balcony,  en- 
circHng  the  cap  of  the  dome,  whence  we  had  a  glori- 
ous view  of  the  panorama  about  us.  "  Excelsior  "  is 
still  the  word,  and  we  clamber  up  into  the  very  ball, 
that  from  below  looks  like  an  apple,  stuck  on  the  end 

of  a  rod.     Friend   F and  ourself  were  the  first 

to  squeeze  in,  while  several  other  members  of  the 
party  followed  after.  We  had  a  merry  time  of  it,  by 
closing  up  with  our  caps  and  handkerchiefs  the  small 
apertures  in  the  ball,  through  which  the  light  was 
admitted,  and  thereby  causing  darkness,  confusion 
and  dismay  to  the  party  then  ascending.  But  in  the 
midst  of  our  laughing,  rather  a  solemn  feeling  would 
come  over  us ;  as  we  reflected  for  a  moment  wliat  a 
ridiculous  figure  we  would  cut,  if  our  iron  cage, 
perched  some  425  feet  above  the  earth,  should  sud- 
denly take  it  into  its  head  to  topple  from  its  precarious 
position,  and  bounding  over  all  opposing  obstacles 
come  clattering  to  the  ground.  But  we  were  destined 
to  the  performance  of  no  such  "ground  and  lofty 
tumbling.-'  "We  came  safely  down,  and  felt  a  spirit 
of  thankfulness  in  our  heart,  when  our  foot  pressed 
again  the  "terra  firma."  But  we  feel  utterly  inade- 
quate to  any  description  of  the  beauty,  the  splendor, 
the  wonder  of  St.  Peter's.  It  is  a  glorious  structure— 
a  proud  and  lasting  monument  to  the  genius  of  man. 
Its  rich  and  powerful  and  colossal  statuary,  its  sarco- 
phagi and  its  altars,  its  paintings  and  its  gilded  dome, 


224:  Memories   over  the  Water. 

its  columns  and  its  mosaics,  its  tassclated  floor  and 
its  glowino;  hic^li-altar,  all  combined  to  form  one  of 
tlie  most  gorgeous  and  imposing  sights  that  earth 
can  boast.     We  can  only  say  with  Byron,  that — 

"  Majesty, 
Power,  glory,  strength  and  beauty,  all  are  aisled 
In  this  eternal  ark  of  worship  undefiled." 

On  the  next  day  we  again  went  forth  upon  a  sight- 
seeing excursion.  First  we  visited  Csesar's  Palace — 
now  nothing  more  than  a  mass  of  moldcring  brick 
arches,  with  its  grounds  laid  out  in  cabbage  beds. 
Next  to  the  Campanile  Tower,  and  descended  into 
the  Vivarium  —  a  series  of  long  and  arched  vaults, 
dark  as  Erebus  and  abounding  in  pools  of  water. 
It  is  said  that  here  were  confined  the  wild  beasts, 
destined  for  exhibition  at  the  Coliseum.  Thence  to 
the  Church  of  "  San  Stephano  Kotondo,"  passing  on 
our  way  under  the  arch  of  Dolabella,  which,  by  the  by, 
is  a  great  humbug.  The  interior  of  San  Stephano  is 
lined  with  barbarous  paintings  in  fresco,  representing 
scenes  of  martyrdom  in  the  time  of  the  early  Chris- 
tians. Thence  to  the  Lateran  Piazza,  with  its  Egyp- 
tian obelisk,  the  largest  in  Pome,  and  corresponding 
with  the  one  in  the  Piazza  del  Popolo.  Went  over 
the  "  ?.Iuscum  Gregorianum,"  with  its  colossal  statue 
of  Antinous  ;  the  sarcophagus  of  Bacchus ;  the  mosaic 
of  our  Saviour  with  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul ;  the  two 
ancient  pillars  found  in  the  bed  of  the  Tiber;  the 
black  marble  stag ;  and  the  fine  statue  of  Sophocles, 


Memories   over  the  Water.  225 

recently  discovered  and  considered  the  gem  of  the 
collection.  Went  into  the  Latcran  Palace,  and  saw 
there  a  copy  of  the  "Flagellation  of  St.  Gregory" 
—  an  elegant  and  speaking  painting.  In  another 
chamber  are  two  fine  copies  of  the  Assumption  and 
Annunciation  as  also  a  dashing,  full-length  portrait 
o/  George  IV,  of  England.  Saw  the  Saloon  of  the 
Gladiators,  its  floor  being  entirely  covered  with  fine 
antique  mosaic,  found  in  the  Baths  of  Caracalla, 
and  representing,  in  sixty-three  separate  plates,  the 
various  actors,  in  diflerent  scenes,  on  the  arena  of  the 
Coliseum  —  the  gladiator,  the  boxer,  the  racer,  the 
wrestler  and  the  conqueror.  Next  we  went  to  the 
church  of  St.  John  Lateran,  in  whose  center  is  erected 
a  beautiful  Gothic  Tabernacle,  and  there,  among 
many  other  sacred  relics,  repose^  as  you  are  told^ 
the  heads  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul.  In  this  church 
we  were  shown  (believe  it  who  will)  the  identical 
table  on  which  our  Saviour  celebrated  the  last  supper ; 
and  in  the  cloister  of  Constantine,  the  marble  curbing, 
that  once  stood  over  the  well  of  Samaria ;  the  por- 
phyry slab,  on  which  the  soldiers  played  for  the  gar- 
ments of  our  Saviour  ;  a  pillar  that  was  rent  in  twain 
at  his  death  ;  and  many  other  such  curious  relics, 
equally  interesting  and  authentic.  Such  fabulous  in- 
ventions, sanctioned  by  Holy  Church  and  propagated 
by  her  ministers,  are  ample  proof  of  the  ignorance 
and  superstition  of  the  masses  in  Rome,  as  well  as  the 
deceptions  practiced   by  her  Priesthood.     The  poor 

10 


226  Memories  over  the  Water. 

peasant  and  the  pauper  implicitly  believe  the  stories 
thus  trumped  up,  and  as  the  long-robed  priest,  (who 
must  be  paid  for  his  information,)  leads  the  intel- 
ligent traveler  among  these  holy  relics,  v^ith  an  assur- 
ance that  is  absolutely  farcical,  he  will  put  off  the 
same  preposterous  stories  on  him. 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 


On  the  outskirts  of  Eomc  there  is  a  little  church, 
called  the  Chapel  of  St.  Salvadorc.  The  marble 
steps  that  lead  up  into  the  building  are  said  to  be 
the  same  by  which  our  Saviour  descended  from  the 
presence  of  Pontius  Pilate,  when  condemned  to  death 
by  that  prelate.  They  were  taken,  it  is  supposed, 
from  the  Tribunal  of  Justice  at  Jerusalem,  and 
brought  over  to  Pome.  Now  in  such  veneration  are 
these  steps  held,  that  they  are  never  ascended  save  on 
the  knees.  They  are,  moreover,  covered  with  plank, 
which  is  worn  smooth  by  the  constant  friction. 
Several  coatings  of  plank,  we  were  told,  had  been  worn 
out,  and  replaced  by  a  new  covering.  On  several  of 
the  steps  there  are  holes  through  which  the  marble  is 
visible,  and  where  the  penitent  children  of  Holy 
Church  pause  and  devoutly  kiss  the  cold  rock.  Now 
we  had  no  such  superstitious  reverence  for  these  stairs 
as  the  many  Romans  about  us — in  fact  we  did  not 
at  all  credit  the  story  of  their  having  been  trod  by 
the  foot  of  our  Saviour — but  yet,  for  the  mere  men- 
tion of  the  thing,  we  concluded  that  we,  too,  would 
make  the  ascent  on  our  knees.  Price,  who  was  ever 
ready  for  something  novel  in  its  way,  agreed  to  join 

'  ( 227  )        ' 


228  Memories  ovek  the  Water. 

us.  The  rest  of  the  company  declined,  excepting  our 
knight  of  the  razor,  who  followed  most  devoutly 
behind.  There  were  a  good  many  pilgrims  on  the 
"  Santa  Scala,"  when  we  started,  the  majority  in 
advance,  mounting  slowly  up  and  muttering  their 
prayers  as  they  ascended.  The  enterprise  proceeded 
very  well  with  us  at  first,  until  we  began  to  feel  our 
knees  grow  sore  from  pressing  against  the  hard 
plank,  and  we  almost  repented  of  our  undertaking. 
But  go  back  on  our  knees  we  could  not,  and  to  place 
a  foot  upon  the  steps  would  be  to  outrage  the  public 
opinion  of  all  Rome.  "VVe  therefore,  with  most 
irreverent  haste,  pressed  on,  scrambling  past  several 
devout  old  ladies,  who  looked  with  astonishment 
upon  our  sacrilegious  speed,  and  probably  oifered  a 
prayer  that  we  might  escape  the  clutches  of  Satan  for 
our  rash  temerity.  We  had  so  far,  however,  preserv- 
ed a  grave  face,  until,  looking  back,  we  observed  the 
burly  form  of  Frank  Parrish,  his  hands  meekly  folded 
on  his  breast,  slowly  ascending  the  stairs.  On  reach- 
ing one  of  the  holes,  he  too,  with  all  the  gravity  of  a 
firm  believer,  bent  his  lips  to  the  rock.  This  was  too 
great  a  provocation  to  our  risible  organs,  and  scuf- 
fling up  as  soon  as  possible  to  the  top  to  hide  our  ill- 
timed  merriment,  we  mentally  vowed  we  would  never 
again  undertake  the  ascent  of  the  "  Santa  Scala," 
We  were  amused  at  the  astonishment  expressed  by 
our  worthy  guide,  as  he  told  us  that  we  would  cer- 
tainly be  visited  that  night  by  some  demon  of  dreams, 
as  a  punishment  for  our  profanation.     But  the  demon 


Memories   over   the  "Water.  229 

did  not  come.  Near  the  chapel  of  St.  Salvadore  is 
the  shrine  at  which  Pope  Benedict  XIV,  received 
Charlemagne,  on  his  entrance  into  Rome. 

Thence  we  went  to  the  church  of  "  Santa  Croce  in 
Gerusalemmc,"  founded  by  St.  Helena,  the  mother 
of  Constantine.  It  is  one  of  the  seven  Basilicas  of 
Home,  and  contains  an  especial  piece  of  the  true 
cross.  Next  we  went  to  the  Porta  Maggiore,  and 
looked  at  the  old  Roman  Aqueduct,  by  means  of 
which  Rome  is  at  this  day  supplied  with  M-ater, 
brought  from  the  neighboring  mountains,  at  a  distance 
of  twenty-four  miles.  Next  we  saw  the  Trophy  of 
Marius,  nothing  more  now  than  a  huge  pile  of  brick 
and  rubbish.  Then  came  to  the  Church  of  Santa 
Maria  Maggiore,  on  the  Esqueline  Ilill,  containing 
the  chapel  of  the  Borghese  Family,  and  two  rows  of 
Ionic  columns,  thirty-six  in  number,  and  supposed  to 
have  belonged  to  the  Temple  of  Juno. 

Descending  the  Esqueline,  we  ascended  the  Quiri- 
nal  Hill,  which  is  also  called  Monte  Cavallo,  from  a 
fine  fountain  on  its  summit,  decorated  with  gi-oups  of 
men  taming  wild  horses.  One  group  is  the  work  of 
Phidias,  and  the  other  of  Praxiteles — both  considered 
masterpieces  of  Grecian  sculpture. 

Descending  again  into  the  city,  we  passed  by  the 
Fontana  di  Trevi,  the  handsomest  fountain  in  Rome. 
The  chariot  and  colossal  statue  of  Neptune,  drawn  by 
sea-horses  and  guided  by  Tritons,  are  seated  on  a 
mass  of  numerous  rocks,  over  which  the  water  is 
pouring  in  every  direction.     In  the  lateral  niches  are 


230  Memories   over  the  Water. 

the  statues  of  Salubrity  and  Plenty,  with  Las-reliefs 
above,  representing  the  interview  between  Agrippa 
and  the  Yirgin  who  discovered  the  fountain.     The 
Colonna  Gardens  next  claimed  our  attention,  where 
we  saw  some  few  fragments  of  the  frieze  of  the  Tem- 
ple of  the  Sun,  and  the  decayed  old  trunk  of  a  tree, 
said  to  have  been  planted  by  Kienzi,  the  last  of  the 
Koman  Tribunes.     Then  the  Baths  of  Constantine, 
and  the  Baths  of  Diocletian.     Then  the  Church  of 
Santa  Maria  Angeli,  built  on  the  plan  of  the  Greek 
Cross,  and  said  to  occupy  the  site  of  the  grand  hall 
of  the  Baths  of  Diocletian.     The  roof  is  supported  by 
eight  antique  granite  columns,  each  a  single  block, 
and  standing  just  as  they  stood  in  the  Baths.     They 
are  each  fifteen  feet  in  circumference,  and  forty-five 
feet  in  height.     Went  then  into  an  adjoining  chapel, 
where  we  were  shown  the  bones  of  many  martyrs ; 
thence  to   the   cloister  of  Diocletian,  in  which  now 
grow  the  orange,  the  cypress,  the  cedar  and  the  cab- 
bage.    The  building  is  occupied  as  a  barrack  for  the 
Erench  soldiery.     Next  we  visited  the  studio  of  Mr. 
Crawford,  an  x\merican   artist,  who  has   been  em- 
ployed  by  the   State   of  Virginia   to   make   several 
colossal  statues  of  her  principal  heroes.     We  saw  the 
model  of  a  fine  statue  of  Patrick  Henry,  with  a  cloak 
thrown  over  his  left  shoulder,  and  holding  a  sword  in 
his  right-hand.     His  arms  are  stretched  forth  in  the 
attitude  of  oratory,  and  the  memorable  words — "Give 
me  liberty  or  give  me  death"— seem  trembling  on  his 
lips.     These  statues  are  first  to  be  modeled  in  Rome, 


Memories  over  the  Water.  231 

and  then  taken  to  Municli  and  cast  in  the  famous 
Bronze  Foundry  of  that  city.  Next  we  saw  the  Porta 
Salaria,  where  occurred  the  rape  of  the  SaLines. 
Looked  over  into  the  Gardens  of  Salhist,  and  thence 
to  the  Villa  Albani,  one  of  the  most  celebrated  in 
Rome,  and  abounding  in  busts,  bas-reliefs,  bronzes, 
box-hedges,  flower-gardens,  and  water-fountains.  The 
view  of  the  Alban  hills,  with  their  snow-clad  tops,  is 
very  fine  from  this  villa.  Among  the  antique  busts 
to  be  found  here,  we  recollect  those  of  Agi'ippa, 
Brutus,  Scipio,  Titus,  and  Themistocles.  We  made 
the  tour  of  the  building,  beginning  with  the  oval 
chamber,  with  its  fawns  and  marble  vase ;  the  cabinet 
of  Mosaic,  with  the  bronze  statue  of  Apollo,  described 
by  Pliny ;  a  bust  of  the  hump-backed  JEsop,  and  a 
statuette  of  the  Farnese  Ilercules ;  the  saloon,  a 
beautiful  marble  hall,  with  statues  of  Jove  and  Pallas, 
and  a  bas-relief,  representing  the  taming  of  Buce- 
phalus by  Alexander ;  the  cabinet  of  bas-reliefs,  the 
best  of  which  is  the  one  representing  the  interview 
between  Diogenes  and  Alexander.  The  cynic  philo- 
sopher is  sitting  in  his  tub,  and  motions  to  the  con- 
queror of  the  world  to  move  out  of  his  sunshine ; 
cabinet  of  the  Vase,  so  called  from  the  magnificent 
white  marble  vase,  situated  in  the  center  of  the  apart- 
ment ;  the  vase  is  twenty-two  feet  in  circumference, 
and  bears  on  its  outward  rim,  in  bas-relief,  the 
labors  of  Ilercules.  With  the  Billiard-room  and 
Coflee-house  we  finished  up  the  villa,  and  returned  to 
our  hotel. 


232  Memories   over  the  "Water, 

"While  in  Rome  we  generally  occupied  the  entire 
day,  from  an  early  breakfast  to  dinner  hour,  at  six 
o'clock,  p.  M.,  in  sight-seeing.  Dinner  generally 
occupied  an  hour  or  two,  strict  attention  being  given 
to  the  numerous  courses,  ab  ovo  bisque  malum. 
During  the  intervals  the  eyes  of  our  party  were  gene- 
rally directed  either  to  the  Eussian  bride,  the  Scotch 
girls,  or  the  ladies  from  France.  The  bride  from  the 
Bnowy  clime,  however,  bore  away  the  palm.  Such  a 
complexion,  and  such  teeth  !  and  then  so  young,  and 
such  a  husband  !  It  was  beauty  and  the  beast.  But 
dinner  over,  we  would  repair  to  our  private  parlor — 
provided    we    were    confined   within    doors    by   the 

rain — when  the  romp  would  invariably  ensue.     K 

was  our  Pickwick,  and  E our  orator.     The  latter, 

feeling  again  the  spirit  of  earlier  days,  would  make 
the  center-table  his  rostrum,  and  under  the  local 
influence  of  the  Roman  Forum,  give  us  a  touch  of 
Ciceronian  oratory.  "We  recollect  the  subject  of  one 
address  —  Light;  in  the  which  our  patriarch  did 
discourse  most  learnedly  of  the  difierence  between 
a  wax  and  a  tallow  candle.  His  arguments  were 
unanswerable,  being  enforced  by  the  most  touching 
appeals  to  our  past  experience  in  our  travel  through 
Italy.  At  the  close  of  the  exciting  peroration,  the 
enthusiastic  orator  would  spring  from  the  table,  and 
throwing  himself  into  a  trao-ic  attitude,  challenire  the 
whole  squad  of  us  to  combat.  The  glove  was  im- 
mediately taken  up,  and  a  promiscuous  battle-royal 
would  ensue.     Lights  were  blown  out,  heavy  pillows 


JUemories   over  the  Water.  233 

wielded  by  lusty  hands  flashed  in  tlio  air,  tables  were 
upturned,  chairs  smashed,  and  more  than  one  sofa 
rendered  hors  du  comhat  from  the  loss  of  a  leg. 
F and  J rolled  over  and  over  in  close  cm- 
brace,  E and  F tugged  away  at  each  other 

in  one  corner,  while  McG and  ourself  indulged 

in  cart  and  tierce  exercise  with  a  couple  of  formida- 
ble bolsters.  The  prude  Englishman  and  the  sprucy 
son  of  Gaul  heard  with  holy  horror  the  tumult  in  the 
Yankee  quarter;  while  the  eyes  of  the  elegant  waiter 
grew  to  the  size  of  saucers,  as  he  opened  the  door  and 
looked  in  on  the  chaos  of  objects,  animate  and  inani- 
mate. But  still  "the  combat  deepens" — the  work 
goes  bravely  on  —  until  at  last  weak  from  our  rapid 
exercise  and  exhausted  with  laughter,  avc  threw 
ourself  upon  the  bed,  and  suffered  our  victorious 
opponent  to  beat  away  at  his  pleasure.  And  well 
did  he  improve  upon  his  advantage,  for  with  "neither 
strength  in  our  arm  nor  mercy  in  our  woe,"  he 
pounded  away,  until  our  aching  sides  suggested  the 
necessity  for  a  retreat.  It  was  our  only  remedy  —  the 
'dernier  ressort' — and  so  jumping  up,  we  ingloriously 

fled,  but  with  the  tireless  McG in  hot  pursuit,  down 

the  long  passage  toward  the  stairway,  his  flaming 
locks  flying  in  the  wind,  and  the  infernal  bolster  still 
dangling  on  his  arm.  On  our  way  we  encountered  a 
lady  returning  to  her  room,  but  who  on  seeing  the 
fierce  charge  of  the  fieiy  "  Tennesseean,"  also  turned 
about  and  fled.     But  on  we  rushed,  close  upon  her 


234  Memokies    over  the  ^yATER. 

heels,  and  reaching  the  head  of  the  staircase  glided 
down  with  marvelous  rapidity ;  not  so  fast,  however, 
that  we  did  not  hear  the  quick  whiz  of  that  same  old 
bolster,  as  it  came  flashing  by  our  head,  hurled  from 
the  hand  of  the  doughty  knight  above,  but  who  being 
slightly  "  en  dishabille^''''  did  not  dare  venture  any 
farther. 


CHAPTER    XXXVI 


On  the  mornins:  of  the  10th  of  November  the  heavy 
clowls,  which  had  so  long  hung  the  heavens  in 
mourning,  were  brushed  away,  and  we  beheld  old 
Rome  baskino;  in  the  li2:ht  of  a  clear  and  cloudless 
sky.  The  yellow  Tiber  was  up  and  booming,  and 
the  descendants  of  the  ancient  Romans  stood  upon  its 
banks  to  look  in  wonder  and  admiration  on  the 
rushing  waters.  But  we  had  been  upon  the  broad 
bosom  of  the  mighty  Mississippi,  so  that  the  Tiber, 
in  all  the  majesty  of  its  flooded  banks,  seemed  but  a 
muddy  rivulet  in  comparison. 

Tiiat  morninoj  we  entered  the  Vatican  in  the  wake 
of  a  beautiful  English  woman.  Slfe  threw  the  fine 
arts  into  the  shade,  and  it  was  some  time  before  we 
could  descend  to  the  worship  of  Raphael.  We  began 
first  with  the  Library,  but  not  having  a  permit  from 
the  Pope,  we  were  refused  a  sight  of  the  books  and 
manuscripts,  all  of  which  are  shut  up  in  countless 
drawers.  The  great  hall  of  the  Library  is  a  mag- 
nificent room.  The  entire  floor  is  laid  with  beauti- 
fully polished  marble,  and  both  the  walls  and  the 
ceilings  are  covered  with  paintings  in  fresco.  But 
lookini?  at  these  frescoed  ceilings  is  cnouirh  to  break 

(  '235  ) 


236  Memories  ovek  the  Water. 

the  neck  of  a  Hercules.  It  is  worse  than  star-gazing. 
How  they  were  ever  painted  so  well  we  cannot  con- 
ceive. Our  artistic  enthusiasm  would  soon  evaporate, 
if  compelled  to  lie  on  our  back  and  paint  upward. 
But  we  had  begun  to  doubt  our  own  taste  in  regard 
to  painting ;  it  did  not  coincide  with  the  established 
despotism.  We  had  been  barbarian  enough  to  admire 
pictures  of  little  reputation,  and  to  see  but  little  beauty 
in  some  of  the  masterpieces  of  the  world.  However, 
it  may  be  a  blessing  not  to  be  a  connoisseur ;  one  can 
admire  without  being  condemned,  and  condemn  with- 
out being  regarded.  In  the  long  gallery  we  saw  an 
exquisitely  sweet  face  of  the  young  Augustus,  in  Parian 
marble.  This  gallery  is  called  the  Corridor  of  Inscrip- 
tions, on  account  of  the  walls  being  literally  lined 
with  antique  inscriptions  found  among  the  ruins  of 
ancient  Rome.  In  the  square  vestibule  is  the  Belvi- 
dere  Torso;  a  fragment  of  Ilerciiles  in  repose,  and 
greatly  admired  by  Michael  Angelo.  Here,  also,  is 
the  sarcophagus  of  Scipio.  From  the  Round  Vesti- 
bule we  passed  into  the  Portico,  which  is  graced  by 
some  of  the  most  noted  sculpture  in  the  world.  In 
the  first  cabinet  on  tlie  riglit  we  found  the  Boxers, 
and  also  Perseus  with  the  head  of  the  Medusa — all 
by  the  hand  of  Canova.  In  the  second  cabinet  is 
the  Belvidere  Mercury.  Next  comes  the  original 
group  of  Laocoon  and  his  two  sons.  It  is  said,  by 
Pliny,  that  this  celebrated  piece  of  sculpture  formerly 
occupied  a  place  in  the  Palace  of  Titus,  and  that  it 
was  executed  conjointly  by  three  Phodian  sculptors — 


Memories  ovei:  the  Watek.  237 

AL'esandcr,  Polidorus  and  Athenodorus.  The  follow- 
ing  lines,  from  the  pen  of  Byron,  lend  additional  inter- 
est to  this  group,  while  they  illustrate  the  Trojan  story: 

Or  turning  to  the  Vatican,  to  see 

Laocoon's  dignifj'ing  pain, 

A  father's  love  and  mortal's  agony, 

With  an  immortal's  patience  blending  ;  vain 

The  struggle  ;  vain  against  the  coiling  strain, 

And  gripe,  and  deep'ning  of  the  dragon's  grasp. 

The  old  roan's  clench  ;  the  long  envenom'd  chain 

Rivets  the  living  links  ;  the  enormous  asp 

Enforces  pang  on  pang,  and  stifles  gasp  on  gasp. 

The  last  cabinet  of  the  Portico  contains  the  Belvi- 
dere  Apollo,  considered  one  of  the  finest  statues  of 
antiquity.  Immediately  following  the  above  verse, 
from  Childe  Harold,  will  be  found  this  description  of  it: 

Or  view  the  lord  of  the  unerring  bow,  " 
The  god  of  life,  and  poesy,  and  light — 
The  sun  in  human  limbs  array 'd  and  brow 
All  radiant  from  his  triumph  in  the  fight ; 
The  shaft  hath  just  been  shot — the  arrow  bright 
With  an  immortal's  vengeance  ;  in  his  eye 
And  nostril  beautiful  disdain,  and  might. 
And  majesty  flash  their  full  lightnings  by. 
Developing  in  that  one  glance  the  deity. 
But  in  his  delicate  form — a  dream  of  love, 
Shaped  by  some  solitary  nymph,  whose  breast 
Longed  for  a  deathless  lover  from  above, 
And  madden'd  ia  that  vision — are  expressed 
All  that  ideal  beauty  ever  blessed 
•The  mind  with,  in  its  most  unearthly  mood, 
When  each  conception  was  a  heavenly  guest — 
A  ray  of  immortality — and  stood 
Starlike  around,  until  they  gathered  to  a  god. 


238  Memories   over  the  Water. 

We  next,  successively,  went  through  the  Hall  of 
Animals;  the  Gallery  of  Statues;  the  Hall  of  Busts; 
the  Cabinet  of  Masks ;  the  Hall  of  the  Muses  ;  the 
Sala  Rotunda,  and  the  Hall  of  the  Greek  Cross  ;  all 
abounding  in  antique  statuary.  We  now  ascended 
the  beautiful  staircase  of  Carrara  marble,  and  entered 
the  Hall  of  the  Eiga ;  so  called  from  a  beautiful 
chariot,  drawn  by  two  horses,  which  occupies  its 
center,  and  all  of  pure  white  marble.  Then  came 
another  gallery,  replete  with  vases,  cups,  bas-reliefs, 
busts  and  candelabra.  Following  this  corridor  to  its 
end  we  next  entered  the  long  Tapestry  Gallery  ;  so 
called  from  immense  pictures  of  tapestiy  which 
occupy  its  walls,  and  principally  subjects  taken  from 
Biblical  History.     From  this  we  were  led  into  the 

Geographical  Gallery,  down  which  P andourself 

took  a  foot-race,  much  to  the  ire  of  our  worthy  patri- 
arch, who  thought  such  conduct,  in  the  Palace  of  the 
Pope,  utterly  disgraceful.  Next  we  saw  the  Vatican 
Tapestries,  executed  on  the  cartoons  of  Raphael,  and 
afterward  entered  the  Picture  Gallery.  Here  is  the 
Transfiguration,  the  Madonna  di  Foligno,  and  a  host 
of  frescoes,  in  what  are  called  the  Loggia  of  Raphael. 
With  this  we  finished  up  the  Vatican  ;  a  few  statis- 
tical facts  of  whose  history  may  not  be  uninteresting. 
It  is  built  upon  one  of  the  seven  hills  of  Rome,  and 
covers  a  space  of  twelve  hundred  feet  in  length  and 
one  thousand  in  breadth.  It  occupies  the  site  of  the 
gardens  of  Nero,  but  owes  its  origin  to  the  Bishop  of 
Rome,  who,  in  the  early  part  of  the  sixteenth  century, 


Memories  over  the  "Water,  239 

erected  there  a  humble  residence.     About   the  year 
1150  Pope  Eugenius  rebuilt  it  on  a  grand  scale.     Inno- 
cent the  2d,  a  few  years  aftcrwai-d,  gave  it  np  as  a 
lodging  to  Peter  the  2d,  King  of  Arragon.     In  1305 
Clement  the  5th,  at  the  instigation  of  the  King  of 
France,  removed  the  Papal  See  of  Rome  to  Avignon, 
when  the  Vatican  remained  in  a  condition  of  obscurity 
and  neglect  for  more  than  seventy  years.     But  soon 
after  the  return  of  the  pontifical  court  to  Rome  in 
1376,  the  Vatican  was  put  into  a  state  of  repair,  and 
was  thenceforward  considered  the  regular  palace  and 
residence  of  the  Popes,  who,  one  after  another,  added 
new  buildings  to  it,  and  gradually  enriched  it  with 
antiquities,  statues,  pictures  and  books,  until  it  has 
become  the  richest  depository  in   the  world.     The 
Library    was    commenced    fourteen    hundred    years 
ago,   and   contains    four    hundred    thousand    manu- 
scripts, among  which  are  some  by  Pliny,  St.  Thomas, 
St.   Charles  Borromeo,   and  many  Ilcbrew,  Syriac, 
Arabian  and  Armenian  Bibles.     And  then  when  it 
is  known  that  there  have  been  exhumed  more  than 
seventy  thousand   statues  from  the  ruined  temples 
and  palaces  of  Rome — the  best  of  which  have  been 
deposited  in  the  Vatican — the  reader  can  form  some 
idea  of  the  extent  and  riches  of  this  building.     So 
much  then  for  our  visit  to  the  Vatican. 

As  it  is  impossible  to  do  justice  to  the  many  objects 
of  interest  to  be  seen  in  Rome,  we  will  just  mention 
the  most  prominent  that  came  within  the  scope  of  our 
researches.     The  list  for  the  11th  of  November  ran  as 


240  Memories  ovku  the  Water, 

follows:  Theater  of  JMarcelliis  ;  Portico  of  Octavia ; 
the  Fabrician  Bridge ;  the  Tiberiau  Island ;  the 
Romanura  Populwn  trans  Tihevum^  and  the  Porta 
Ripa  Grande,  where  we  found  some  little  shipping, 
an  immense  custom-house,  and  a  great  abundance  of 
codfish,  all  the  way  from  America.  Saw  the  ruins 
of  the  house  of  Kienzi,  where  Pilate  is  said  to  have 
resided  during  his  sojourn  in  Eome.  Saw  the  church 
of  St.  Nicholas,  built  on  the  site  of  the  prison,  where 
the  father  of  the  Roman  daughter  was  confined,  and 
his  life  sustained  by  nourishment  from  his  child's 
breast.  This  beautiful  incident  has  not  escaped  the 
muse  of  Byron,  who  thus  speaks  of  the  Roman  story: 

The  starry  fable  of  the  milky  way 

Has  not  thy  story's  purity  ;  it  is 

A  constellation  of  a  sweeter  ray, 

And  sacred  nature  triumphs  more  in  this. 

Reverse  of  her  decree,  than  in  the  abyss 

Where  sparkle  distant  worlds  ;  oh  !  holiest  nurse  ! 

No  drop  of  that  pure  stream  shall  miss  its  way, 

To  thy  sire's  heart,  replenishing  its  source 

With  life,  as  our  freed  souls  rejoin  the  Universe. 

Saw  the  remains  of  the  Palatine  Bridge,  the  Temple 
of  Fortuna  Yirilis  ;  of  Vesta,  and  of  Janus.  Went  to 
the  entrance  of  Cloaca  Maxima ;  the  immense  sewer 
constructed  for  the  purpose  of  draining  Rome.  Saw 
the  Bocca  della  Yerita — one  of  the  mouths  of  an  an- 
cient oracle — in  the  church  of  Santa  Maria  in  Cosrae- 
din.  Visited  the  Pyramid  of  Caius  Cestius  out  by  the 
Ostia  Gate.  Crossed  over  the  rising  of  the  Tiber,  on 
the  Via  Ostia,  by  means  of  a  mule  cart,  and  went  to 


Memories  oveh  the  Water.  211 

see  the  Basilica  of  St.  Paul.     AVhcn  coinpletcd  this 
church   will    prove   a    most   iiia[;;nificent   allair.      Its 
nave  is  supported  by  eighty  huge  granite  columns  of 
the  finest  polish.     On  our  return,  along  by  the  banks 
of  the  Tiber,  we  stopped  at  the  foot  of  the  Aventine 
hill  to  look  at  a  team  of  European  buffaloes,  attached 
to  a  cart  as  we  do  our  oxen.     Thence  we  went  to  the 
Barbarini  Palace,  which  possesses  one  of  the  most 
interesting  pictures  in  Rome  —  the  head  of  Beatrice 
Cenci,  by  Guide.     The  face  is  one  of  the  most  beauti- 
ful in  the  world — just  the  one  to  go  mad  about.     It  is 
an  astonishing  performance  which  defies  reproduction ; 
an  off-hand  dash  of  inspiration  which  the  artist,  him- 
self,   could   not   have  repeated.     There  is   no   limb 
visible  —  nothing  but   a   draped   face.     Shelley    has 
given  a  truthful  analysis  of  its  expression.     Tradition 
would  have  us  believe  that  this  portrait  was  taken  the 
evening  before  her  execution ;  but  it  needs  no  such 
artificial  aid  to  rivet  one's  attention.     There  is  that 
indefinable  something  in  the  face  which  sets  one  a 
dreaming.     It  breathes  the  language  of  thoughtful, 
unmerited  suffering ;  it  is  a  countenance  that  comes 
long  after,   at  your  bidding,   from   the    depths    of 
memory,  and  almost  persuades  you  it  was  once  your 
friend.     We  have  met  one  face  that  was  something 
like  it;  'twas  not  in  the  clime  of  the  Roman  daugh- 
ter, but  on  the  soil  of  far-western  shores.     The  voice 
of  the  mountain  stream  did  murmur,  from  out  its 
mossy  bed,  a  sullen  song  ;  the  flashing  cascade,  un 
spanned  by  the  attendant  Iris,  dashed  angrily  down 
20 


242  Memories  ovek  the  Water. 

the  wave-worn  cliff;  the  storm-king,  like  some  Titanic 
monster,  rode  his  heavy  steed  far  down  the  dark  pa- 
villion  ;  the  hoarse  wind  surged  madly  through  the 
forest,  until  its  proudest  monarchs  bowed  their  heads  ; 
the  thunder  echoed  among  the  mountain-peaks,  and 
the  forked  lightning  flashed  along  the  solemn  sky. 
But  there  was  a  fountain  of  sunlight  in  fondest  eyes, 
and  lo !  'mid  the  fury  of  the  storm,  and  througli  the 
craggy  clouds  above,  burst  down  one  golden  gleam  to 
mingle  with  that  spirit-light.  The  fire  from  Heaven 
glowed  upon  a  holy  altar,  and  the  two  young  hearts 
that  worshiped  there,  did  know  their  vows  accepted. 
Though  from  the  Earth  it  die  darkling  out,  yet,  as 
from  the  great  Source  and  through  the  dense  panoply 
of  gloom  it  came,  so  shall  it  backward  stream,  even 
through  the  shadows  of  death,  and  lend  sweet  luster 
to  the  light  of  the  Spirit-land. 


CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

While  in  Rome  vca  saw  the  Prince  Barbarini  and 
the  Prince  Borghese.  The  latter  was  riding  leisurely 
through  the  streets  on  horseback,  in  the  midst  of  a 
hard  rain,  Rachel,  the  tragic  actress  of  Paris,  was 
also  in  the  Eternal  City  on  a  visit,  whom  we  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  at  the  Theater.  We  thought  there 
was  a  good  deal  of  character  in  her  acting,  but  rather 
too  much  of  the  tigress.  She  resembles  very  much, 
in  personal  appearance,  Mrs.  II ,  of  Xashville. 

In  the  Protestant  burial-ground,  near  the  Porta  St. 
Paulo,  are  the  graves  of  Shelley  and  of  Keats. 
Above  the  grave  of  Shelley  the  roses  were  in  bloom, 
and  by  his  side  reposed  the  ashes  of  his  countryman. 
The  hand  of  affection  was  visible  in  the  fresh  sod,  the 
flowers,  and  the  smooth  cleanliness  of  the  lettered 
marble  ;  but  over  poor  Keats  the  rank  grass  lay  mat- 
ted and  half-decayed  ;  the  broken  lyre  upon  his  little 
slab  was  almost  obliterated,  and  the  dark  cypress 
around  only  mocked  the  unsympathizing  solitude. 
In  death  as  in  life  he  seemed  an  object  of  neglect. 
He  the  most  sorrowful-fated — even  among  the  poets — 
the  spirit  whose  diviner  moments   gushed  forth   in 

pong — over  whose  young  years  already  the  wing  of 

( 213 ) 


244  Mkmokies  over  the  Water. 

death  sat  brooding,  and  to  whom  a  "  thing  of  beauty 
was  a  joy  forever ;"  this  being,  whose  stinted  exist- 
ence was  but  a  record  of  good  deeds,  sleeps  worse 
than  the  common  herd  of  mortals. 

On  the  morning  of  the  13th  of  November  we  went 
out  riding  on  the  Appian  Way.  We  stopped  first  at 
the  Columbaria,  the  burial-vaults  of  the  bones  and 
ashes  of  the  slaves  of  the  noble  families  of  ancient 
Rome,  and  so  called  because  their  internal  arrange- 
ment much  resembles  a  dove-cot  or  pigeon-house. 
They  consist  simply  of  a  square  apartment,  built 
under-ground,  and  ranged  round,  tier  above  tier  are 
the  niches  for  the  ashes  of  the  dead.  These  niches 
are  earthen  jars,  covered  with  a  top.  Several  of  these 
tops  were  removed  by  our  companions,  and  their 
hands  went  dabbing  down  among  the  ashes  and  the 
bones  of  the  warlike  Roman,  without  ever  saying — 
"  By  your  leave,  sir ! "  We  had  a  custode  in  our 
company  here,  who  demanded  on  our  parting  a  most 
exorbitant  fee  for  his  trouble  in  showing  us  around. 
This  we  decided  not  to  pay ;  but  gave  him,  as  we 
drove  off,  what  we  deemed  a  sufficient  bonus  lor  his 
services.  With  all  the  energy  of  Italian  gesticulation, 
lie  insisted  on  a  greater  remuneration,  and  fretted 
himself  into  a  towering  rage,  which  was  increased  to 

fever  heat  by  McG 's  performing  that  expressive 

gyration  of  the  thumb  from  the  tip  of  the  nose  at  the 
scamp,  as  our  carriage  rattled  away.  This  was  more 
than  Roman  patience  could  endure,  and  so  grabbing 
up  a  few  rocks  that  lay  loosely  about,  he  offered  to 


Memories   over  tfie  Water.  245 

Btone  the  carriage.  Seeinf^  this,  our  driver  was 
immediately  ordered  to  hold  up;  but  on  preparing  to 
get  out  the  valorous  custode  forthwith  disappeared 
within  the  gate. 

We  next  descended  into  the  Tombs  of  the  Scipios, 
guarded  by  a  tall  and  solitary  cypress.  Thence  we 
went  out  by  the  Porta  Appia,  and  stopped  at  the 
Basilica  of  St.  Sebastian,  where  we  saw  a  beautiful 
marble  statue  of  the  patriot  saint,  represented  in  a 
recumbent  position,  and  pierced  with  four  arrows. 
Here  we  descended  into  the  great  Catacombs  at 
Rome,  an  immense  labyrinth  of  subterranean  caverns, 
where  it  is  said  fourteen  of  the  early  Popes  and  one 
hundred  and  seventy  thousand  Christians  were  buried. 
Next  we  visited  the  Circus  of  Romulus.  Passed  by 
the  huge  ruins  of  the  Baths  of  Caracalla,  and  visited 

CD  J 

the  Tomb  of  Secilia  Metella,  the  finest  and  best  pre- 
served monument  on  the  Appian.  Saw  the  Temple 
of  Bacchus,  and  stood  at  the  Fountain  of  Egeria,  where 
Nuraa  Pompilius,  the  second  of  the  seven  Roman 
Kings,  was  wont  to  meet  the  beauteous  nymph,  and 
receive  from  her  instruction  how  he  mijLrht  best  govern 
Rome.  But  it  requires  more  credulity  than  we  pos- 
sess to  believe  this  grotto  to  have  been  the  haunt  of 
any  nymph.  We  do  not  envy  Numa  the  interview, 
if  it  took  place  there.  It  looks  very  like  a  quiz ; 
even  the  valet  looked  doubtful,  and  when  the  valet 
doubts  the  Devil  would  not  believe.  On  our  return 
to  the  city  we  stopped  to  have  a  close  inspection  of 
the  old  Roman  Aqueduct.    It  is  constructed  by  means 


246  Memories   ovku  the  Water. 

of  a  series  of  arches,  and  is  built  of  a  species  of  soft 
stone  called  Pepperino.  Its  appearance  is  exactly 
that  of  pepper,  and  hence  we  suppose  its  name. 
Entered  the  city  by  the  Porta  San  Giovanni,  and 
reached  our  hotel  by  way  of  the  Coliseum.  We  then 
went  to  the  Mausoleum  of  Augustus,  and  found  it 
fitted  up  for,  and  occupied  by,  a  circus  company. 
What  a  commentary  on  life.  The  bufibon  and  clown 
mock  and  jest  over  an  emperor's  tomb.  In  the  after- 
noon, while  coming  down  the  Corso,  we  encountered 
the  carriage  of  the  Pope,  lie  was-  followed  by  a 
second  carriage,  and  behind  that  a  troop  of  dragoons. 
Preceding  him  rode  three  horsemen,  the  one  after  the 
other,  whose  duty  it  was  to  clear  the  way  for  the  car- 
riage of  his  Holiness.  The  populace,  as  usual,  bent 
the  knee  before  him,  with  head  uncovered,  as  he 
passed. 

On  the  next  day  we  went  out  with  J in  search 

of  some  paintings.  What  we  principally  sought  was 
a  copy  of  Beatrice  Cenci,  and  of  Hope  —  both  by 
Guido.  In  the  studio  of  one  artist,  we  were  shown 
the  paintings  by  his  pretty  wife,  who  spoke  a  little 
English. 

"And  is  this  the  only  copy  of  Ilope  you  have, 
Madam  ?"  we  inquired. 

"  Yes,  Sir,  the  only  one,"  replied  the  lady. 

"  Then  it  wvjuld  be  hard  to  deprive  you  of  your 
only  Hojye^  Madam,"  returned  our  friend  from  the 
Santee.    And  so  we  left  without  making  the  purchase. 

But  we  had   now  been  in  Pome  for  nearly  thre^ 


Memokies   over  the  Water.  247 

weeks,  and  many  of  our  party  were  anxious  to  move 
on  southward.  And  finally  it  was  agreed  by  all  to 
go.  But  first  our  passports  must  be  put  en  regie  for 
our  departure,  and  this  the  American  traveler  in  Italy 
will  find  to  be  no  inconsiderable  tax.  As  an  item  or 
two  in  illustration,  we  had  to  pay,  in  order  to  get  out 
from  liome,  about  four  dollars,  and  out  from  Naples 
about  seven.  But  we  were  in  no  disposition  to  grum- 
ble. Our  visit  to  the  Seven  hills  had  been  most 
satisfactory,  and  we  left  knowing  that  we  had  seen  all 
that  was  most  worthy  of  note  within  their  compass. 
We  had  wandered  about  here  so  much  that  we  knew 
nearly  every  nook  of  the  Eternal  City,  from  the  Coli- 
seum down  to  the  Porta  del  Popolo.  We  have  stood 
upon  her  Seven  hills,  and  from  the  solitary  summit  of 
Tcstatio  have  passed  in  review  her  glories  from  the 
step  of  Remus  to  the  leap  of  the  Bourbon.  We  have 
walked  again  and  again  about  her  walls,  and  paused 
daily  beneath  her  monuments  to  realize  the  fact  that 
we  were  in  Rome.  Like  her  early  youth,  she  is  still 
a  dream  ;  and  often  as  one  roams  carelessly  through 
her  streets,  the  sound  of  "  Roma"  fulls  upon  the  car 
with  a  startling  cadence,  as  if  the  certainty  of  her 
presence  was  made  manifest  for  the  first  time  to  one's 
bewildered  senses.  It  is  not  the  first  glance  of  Rome, 
as  her  towers  rise  above  the  plain,  that  awakens  the 
schoolboy  feeling  of  awe  within  you,  but  after  you 
have  dwelt  aniid  her  desolation,  and  iamiliarized 
yourself  with  her  woe,  you  feel  how  truly  melancholy 
has  been  her  fate.     She  has  quafl'ed  deeply  of  the  cup 


248  Memories   oviai   nii:  Water. 

of  conquest,  and  played  the  spoiler  till  the  very  earth 
grew  weary  of  her  ponderous  weight,  and  now  her 
possessions  have  been  partitioned  out  like  stray  old 
trinkets  among  the  vandal  dynasties  that  she  did 
quicken  into  life.  Yerily,  she  is  the  "Kiobe  of 
Nations,"  and  her  "dower  is  present  woe." 

On  the  morninor  of  the  18th  of  November  we  set 
out  from  Rome,  southward  bound,  for  the  city  of 
Naples.  "We  traveled  again  by  Vetturino,  and  this 
time  our  party  filled  two  carriages.  In  one  were  Mr. 
Thurston  and  his  two  sisters.  Colonel  Kimmel,  and 
fi'iend  Johnstone ;  in  the  other  Messrs.  Ewing, 
McGavock,  Price,  Fogg,  and  ourself,  and  Frank  Par- 
rish.  Including  the  two  drivers,  we  formed  a  respect- 
able party  of  thirteen  persons,  and  so  had  but  little 
apprehension  of  the.  banditti,  who  were  reported  to 
infest  the  route  between  Pome  and  Naples.  At 
Albano  we  had  breakfast.  Our  hotel,  called  the 
"Poyal,"  was  formerly  a  very  handsome  palace. 
The  view,  from  its  balcony  over  the  Marshes  to  the 
Mediterranean,  was  superb.  Our  ensuing  route  was 
along  a  wild  and  picturesque  road,  leading  through 
Velletri  and  several  other  villages,  and  bringing  us 
about  dusk  to  Cisterna,  where  we  rested  for  the  night. 

On  the  following  morning  we  were  off  at  an  early 
hour,  and  soon  entered  on  the  famous  Pontine  Marshes, 
over  whose  unbroken  level  we  traveled  for  about  20 
miles,  and  through  an  interminable  avenue  of  elms 
that  stood  on  either  side  of  the  road.  These  Marshes 
consist  of  a  vast  body  of  low,  level  grounds,  over 


Memories  ovkr  iiik  Water.  249 

which  roam  and  feed  hirge  lienls  of  cattle.  We 
reached  Terracina  about  one  o'clock,  and  took  dinner 
at  a  very  comfortable  hotel,  situated  immediately  on 
tlie  shore  of  the  hoarse  old  Mediterranean.  As  we 
sat  at  the  window,  watching  the  waves  that  came 
chasing  each  other  to  the  shore,  their  long  white  curls 
breaking  with  a  dull  and  heavy  sound  upon  the 
beach,  a  host  of  beggar  boys  and  girls  came  up  and 
gathered  in  a  crowd  below,  calling  on  us  for  a  few 
baiocchi.  On  tossing  them  a  copper  they  would  pile 
themselves  up  in  one  promiscuous  bundle  where  the 
coin  fell,  frequently  losing  the  coveted  prize  in  the 
sand,  and  yet  keenly  enjoying  the  rough-and-tumble 
scuffle.  Terracina  is  built  upon  the  mountain  side, 
its  white-walled  houses  rising,  terrace  above  terrace, 
for  some  distance  up ;  hence  we  suppose  its  name. 
Leaving  Terracina  the  road  winds  for  several  miles 
along  the  shore  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  then  turn- 
ing into  the  interior  enters  the  Neapolitan  territory. 
Here  on  the  border  line  we  were  about  to  have  much 
vexation  and  delay  with  the  examination  of  passports 
and  baggage,  until  the  oiling  of  a  few  pauls  caused 
papers  and  luggage  to  glide  with  marvelous  ease 
through  the  hands  of  these  official  functionaries. 
Entered  Fondi  about  dusk,  encountering  a  horde  of 
ferocious,  banditti-looking  lazzaroni,  clad  in  their 
long  brown  cloaks,  and  scowling  from  out  the  heavy 
caps  that  dangled  over  their  dark  brows.  But  our 
company  was  too  numerous  to  be  trifled  with,  and  so 
we  passed  on  without  interruption. 
21 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII. 

On  leaving  Fondi  we  journeyed  on  till  we  reached 
the  village  called  Mola,  where  we  rested  for  the  night. 
On  the  day  following  we  passed  through  the  towns  of 
Santa  Agata  and  Casano,  arriving  at  Capua  about 
dark.  Here  we  found  every  nook  and  corner  in  the 
hotels  filled  with  the  military,  who,  passing  through 
the  village,  had  been  mercilessly  quartered,  without 
leave  or  license,  in  the  public  houses.  Part  of  our 
company,  in  one  carriage  with  the  ladies,  resolved  to 
go  on  to  Naples,  but  we,  in  the  other,  concluded,  in 
preference  to  proceeding  any  farther  in  the  dark  and 
rain,  to  take  whatever  accommodations  one  small 
room  could  afibrd  for  the  comfort  of  five  persons. 
So  we  kindled  a  little  fire  in  a  brazier,  and  as  we 
hovered  around  its  scanty  warmth,  in  the  cold  and 
dismal  room,  with  the  true  philosophy  of  travel,  we 
made  merry  over  our  misfortunes.  The  next  morning 
we  rose,  in  good  humor,  even  with  adverse  fortune, 
and"  though  the  rain  came  down  in  torrents,  at  nine 
o'clock,  A.  M.,  we  were  on  the  rail  and  rushing  on 
toward  Naples.  We  reached  the  city  in  the  midst  of 
a  perfect  deluge,  and  as  soon  as  we  could  get  through 
the  custom-house,  we  all  took  cabs  and  started  for  the 

(250) 


Memokies  ovKii  Tiiii  Wateu.  251 

Hotel  des  Etrangers.  As  we  rattled  along  the  well- 
paved  streets,  the  rain  and  the  hail  came  dashing  in 
our  faces  with  such  a  drenching  force  as  almost  to 
suffocate  us.  But  still  we  pushed  on  by  the  shore  of 
the  bay,  where  the  long-swept  waves  raged  and  dashed 
upon  the  stone  piers,  causing  the  heavy  spray  to  fly 
high  above  their  summits.  To  add  to  the  gloom  of 
the  scene  the  wreck  of  a  small  schooner  lay  along  the 
shore,  around  which,  in  despite  of  the  fierce  breakers, 
gathered  a  greedy  crowd  of  lazzaroni.  Our  first  view 
of  Naples  and  its  famous  bay  was,  indeed,  enough  to 
make  us  exclaim,  "  See  Naples  and  die.'''' 

But  on  the  following  day  the  whole  aspect  of  nature 
was  changed.  Our  hotel  we  found  beautifully  located ; 
lying  immediately  on  the  margin  of  the  bay.  On 
risinir  in  the  morning  we  unclosed  our  window  and 
looked  out  upon  the  scene  before  us.  The  surface  of 
the  bay  was  still  agitated,  and  we  listened  with  a 
well-pleased  ear  to  the  sullen  roar  of  the  rushing 
waves,  as  one  by  one  they  dashed  their  snow-white 
burdens  on  the  beach,  and  retired  again  as  if  to 
gather  a  new  supply.  Like  sportive  school-boys 
they  seemed  to  chase  each  other  to  the  shore,  their 
crested  caps  curling  in  very  joy.  Over  their  raging 
tops  danced  the  white  sea-gull,  like  a  warrior's  plume 
above  his  battered  helmet.  On  looking  over  the  bay 
the  eye  caught  sight  of  old  Vesuvius,  looming  up  on 
the  opposite  shore,  with  a  thin  cloud  of  white  smoke 
curling  lazily  from  the  crater.  Little  sign  of  anger  was 
visible  about  the  old  fellow's  brow.     He  seemed  to  be 


252  Memories  over  the  Water. 

dreaming  away,  harmless  in  his  quiet  slumber,  and  as 
if  little  addicted  to  those  furious  spasms  that  history 
accords  him.  Farther  off  to  the  right  lay  the  islands 
of  Ischia  and  Capri,  basking  in  the  sweet,  bright 
beams  of  the  morning  sun.  Our  second  view  of 
Naples  and  its  famous  bay  w'as  enough  to  make  us 
exclaim:  "  See  Naples  and  livey 

Eome  has  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
inhabitants,  while  Naples  contains  a  population  of 
four  hundred  and  fifty  thousand.  In  the  latter  city 
there  are  three  hundred  churches  and  thirty-seven 
asylums.  With  such  charitable  provision  it  is  a 
question  for  the  statesman  and  the  moralist  to  deter- 
mine why  wretchedness  and  rags  should  so  abound 
in  her  sti'eets.  The  city  is  twelve  miles  in  circum- 
ference, and  is  defended  by  three  prominent  forts — 
Castel  St.  Elmo,  Castel  Nuova,  and  Castel  dell  Uovo. 
The  houses  are  high,  with  flat  roofs;  the  streets  well 
paved  with  lava,  brought  from  Vesuvius  ;  and  the 
water  abundant  and  good.  The  water  is  furnished 
through  under-ground  aqueducts,  and  by  means  of 
which,  it  is  said,  the  city  has  been  twice  captured  by 
her  enemies.  The  cabs  are  a  miserable  set  of  rattle- 
traps, and  their  drivers  the  most  importunate  and 
impudent  of  rascals.  The  beautiful  bay  is  terminated 
on  either  side  by  a  jutting  cape — that  of  Misenum 
on  the  right,  and  that  of  Minerva  on  the  left.  Just 
beyond  the  latter  lies  the  long  and  picturesque  island 
of  Capri,  rising  abruptly  like  a  camel's  back,  out  of 
the  bay,  and  serving  as  a  breakwater  to  the  harbor. 


Mkmouiks  ovF.ii  Tiiio  ^\^^Tl:I^  253 

The  theater  of  San  Carlo,  hard  by  the  Royal  Palace, 
is  reputed  the  largest  in  the  world.  Yis-a-vis  to  the 
Palace  is  the  church  of  St.  Francis  de  Faola,  with 
loni'  colonnades  cxtendincr  on  the  riij-ht-hand  and  the 
left,  forming  a  semicircle  in  front  much  after  the 
manner  of  St.  Peter's,  at  Rome.  Toward  the  western 
end  of  the  city  lie  tlie  public  gardens,  called  the 
Villa  Reale,  and  filled  with  fountains,  flowers,  and 
finely-finished  statuary. 

It  would  seem  that  in  the  very  atmosphere  of 
Naples  there  is  something  that  makes  life  one  lasting 
smile.  The  wearisome  ennui  of  idleness  is  forgotten, 
and  without  being  in  love  you  become  a  constant 
dreamer.  Existence  is,  in  itself,  a  happiness,  and 
this  it  is,  that  causes  the  face  of  the  penniless  laz- 
zaroni  to  wear  as  bright  a  smile  as  that  of  the  favored 
son  of  fortune.  We  have  seen  these  cast-oflf  wretches, 
without  a  copper  in  their  pocket,  or  a  meal  in  per- 
spective, as  merry  as  the  jocund  lark.  But  the  laz- 
zaroni  of  Naples  is  a  physical  phenomenon.  They 
beg,  but  beg  with  such  a  saucy,  insolent  air,  that  you 
hardly  know  whether  they  are  asking  charity  or 
claiming  a  right.  And  yet  they  will  study  when  to  take 
you  in  your  kindest  mood,  and  in  walking  the  street 
a  good-humored  expression  of  countenance  is  almost 
sure  to  be  the  precursor  of  an  appeal  to  your  benevo- 
lence. If  the  petition  be  disregarded,  it  is  more  than 
probable  the  applicant  will  laugh  in  your  face,  and 
move  mockingly  away. 


254  ]\Iemokiks  over  the  Water. 

At  the  foot  of  the  Villa  Eealo,  on  the  shore  of  the 
bay,  are  ever  congregated  the  boats  and  nets  of  the 
fishermen  ;  and  here  is  the  chief  rendezvous  of  the 
lazzaroni,  where  they  gather  in  knots,  jabbering,  ges- 
ticnhitiug,  and  capering  like  so  many  monkies.  On 
strolling  by  we  stopped  to  look  in  one  of  the  fish- 
baskets,  which  had  just  been  replenished  from  the 
net.  On  observing  this  the  veteran  owner  of  the 
fish  approached  where  we  were  standing,  and  with  a 
waggish  humor  in  his  eye,  he  took  his  empty  pipe 
from  his  mouth,  and  lovingly  tapping  the  solacer  of 
his  sorrows  with  his  fore-finger  intimated,  by  the 
most  expressive  pantomine,  that  he  would  like  for  us 
to  fill  it  up  again. 

"  But,  my  friend,  I  don't  use  the  weed,"  said  we ; 
whereupon  he  stared  as  if  shocked  at  our  unculti- 
vated taste  in  using  such  slang  phrase.  We  left  him 
wondering,  perhaps,  at  the  bad  manners  of  Americans. 

But  the  lazzaroni  is  a  fit  subject  for  the  study  of  the 
philosophic  mind.  He  is  the  child  of  nobody ;  he  does 
nothing  ;  he  lives  on  nothing.  lie  is  the  poorest  of 
the  poor,  yet  the  happiest  of  the  happy.  The  very  air 
seems  to  be  his  parent  and  his  support.  He  lodges  in 
a  fish-basket  in  the  summer,  and  disappears  like  the 
swallow  at  the  approach  of  winter.  His  mode  of 
life  has  not  a  few  advantages  ;  family  cares,  family 
loves,  and  family  quarrels  are  alike  unknown  to  him; 
and  when  you  see  the  little  lazzaroni  crawling  about, 
like  a  mud  turtle  on  a  log,  you  take  it  for  granted 
he  is  a  spontaneous  growth,  not  to  be  recognized  by 


Memories  over  the  Water.  255 

the  census.  He  costs  the  government  nothing,  and 
his  parental  claims  are  more  visionary  than  the  profits 
of  the  South  Sea  Company.  It  would  be  a  positive 
vulgarity  for  the  lazzaroni  to  recognize  his  offspring. 
He  gives  the  brat  an  existence,  and  casts  him  into  the 
market  place,  as  though  he  were  hurling  a  planet  into 
its  orbit.  Instinct  and  climate  do  the  rest.  The  infant 
lazzaroni  expands  into  a  red  cap  and  a  piece  of  blanket; 
he  then  makes  his  entree  into  society,  and  becomes  a 
frequenter  of  the  Mole.  When  the  lazzaroni  wears 
out — for  he  never  dies — they  drop  him  into  the  Campo 
Santo,  wardrobe  and  all,  without  the  formality  of  a 
funeral  service,  the  sound  of  a  dirge,  or  the  discord 
of  a  will.  Ilis  wordly  goods  and  chattels  are  hardly 
sufficient  to  induce  the  squabbling  of  greedy  heirs. 
Thus  lives  and  thus  departs  the  lazzaroni.  But 
Diogenes,  in  faith,  was  a  fool  to  those  fellows.  He 
was  one  of  your  ancient  lazzaroni,  who  lived  in  indo- 
lence and  dirt,  and  yet  the  world  dubbeth  him  Phi- 
losopher par  excellence ;  while  a  thousand  of  his 
confreres  doze  unnoticed  along  yon  sunny  market- 
place. The  one  lived  in  a  tub,  the  other  dwells  in  a 
basket.  But  the  one  is  called  a  noble  stoic,  the  other 
a  shameless  vagrant.  The  police  don't  allow  men  to 
live  in  tubs  now-a-days.  It  would  seem  like  evading 
the  house-tax.  And  if  any  eccentric  character,  in  imi- 
tation of  the  Grecian  philosopher,  should  be  caught 
running  about  in  the  day-time  with  a  lantern  in  his 
hand,  he  would,  possibly,  be  indicted  for  a  burglarious 
intent   to   commit   arson.      The   oddities   of  ancient 


256  Memories  over  the  "Water. 

philosophy  would  hardly  be  tolerated  at  the  ]»reseiit 
da}^  though  any  one  might  liave  the  same  inclination 
and  equal  reason.  The  fellow  with  the  lantern,  instead 
of  finding  the  object  sought,  would  most  likely  be 
introduced  to  the  janitor  of  a  Lunatic  Asylum — Sic 
tempora  mutant,  et  mores. 

"While  in  Naples  we  went  to  see  the  tomb  of  Virgil, 
and  found  the  resting-place  ascribed  to  the  old  Latin 
poet,  situated  in  a  wild,  romantic  spot,  just  above  the 
mouth  of  the  Grotto  Posilipo.  The  tomb  is  now  noth- 
ing more  than  an  old  stone  apartment,  about  six  feet 
square,  cold  and  bare,  containing  only  a  white  marble 
slab,  apparently  of  recent  manufacture,  but  bearing 
this  inscription  : 

Mantua  me  genuit,  Calabres  rapiiere, 

Tenet  nunc  Parthcnope,  cecini  pascua,  ruva  duces. 

The  roof  of  the  tomb  is  overgrown  with  matted 
grass,  and  weeds  tangled  with  rose-bushes.  In 
memory  of  the  old  author,  the  friend  and  companion 
of  our  school-boy  days,  we  gathered  a  leaf  from  off 
the  sod,  that  grew  lonely  and  neglected  above  his 
head. 

"We  also  made  the  tour  of  the  Museum,  where  wo 
saw  the  Farnese  Hercules  and  the  Farnese  Bull  ;  two 
of  the  most  celebrated  specimens  of  ancient  sculpture. 
Hercules  is  leaning,  in  an  attitude  of  repose,  against 
a  stone,  over  which  is  thrown  the  hide  of  the  Nemean 
lion,  while  the  club  of  the  hero  is  resting  at  his  side. 
The  left-hand  he  holds  behind  hiin,  M'hich  contains 
the  three  golden  apples,  stok'n  fnuii  the  gardens  of  the 


Memories   over  the  Water.  257 

Hesperides.  On  tlic  base  of  the  statue  we  fonnd,  in 
Greek  letters,  the  inscription:  {(Jlukoii  Athanalos 
Eporel.)  Tlie  Farnese  Bull  is  a  beautiful  <^TOup  in  niai  - 
ble,  said  to  have  been  sculptured  from  a  sini^le  block. 
It  is  a  very  complicated  piece  of  workmanship  ;  repre- 
senting two  men  binding  Dircc  to  the  horns  of  an  infu- 
riated bull,  while  a  dog  stands  by,  barking  np  into  the 
face  of  the  captive  animal.  This  group  is  the  reputed 
work  of  the  two  Grecian  brothers — ApoUonius  and 
Theoriscus.  While  in  this  hall  we  fell  in  love  with 
the  statue  of  a  water  girl ;  a  creature  of  the  most 
exquisite  form  and  face.  She  is  just  stepping  into  the 
edge  of  the  water,  and  seems  smiling  at  the  reflection 
of  her  own  beauty  in  the  crystal  wave. 

Among  other  objects  of  interest  in  the  Museum  we 
saw  several  antique  frescoes,  found  in  the  excavation 
of  Pompeii,  and  the  glassware  used  by  its  inhab- 
itants ;  a  cameo,  said  to  be  the  finest  in  the  world, 
and  found  in  the  tomb  of  the  Emperor  Hadrian  ;  it  is 
supposed  to  have  been  used  by  him  as  a  drinking  cup  ; 
a  petrified  loaf  of  bread,  with  the  name  of  the  baker 
stamped  thereon,  said  to  have  been  taken  from  the 
shop  of  a  bread-vender  in  Pompeii  ;  a  complete 
assortment  of  medical  and  dental  instruments;  the 
various  articles  of  a  lady's  toilet — rouge  not  excepted; 
lamps,  bathing-tubs,  drinking  cups,  inkstands,  cook- 
ing-stoves, stocks  for  criminals,  vases,  locks,  keys, 
scales,  weights,  stamps,  and  Greek  and  Roman 
armor,  all  dug  uj)  from  the  ruins  of  "  the  city  of  the 


25S  Memokies   oyer  the  Water. 

dead."  We  even  saw  the  skull  of  the  Roman  sentinel, 
encased  in  his  helmet,  who  stood  and  perished  at  his 
post,  at  the  gate  of  the  citj,  when  Pompeii  was  over- 
whelmed ;  a  striking  instance  of  the  extent  to  which 
discipline  in  the  Roman  soldier  was  carried.  We 
saw,  too,  the  fierce  dog  in  mosaic,  with  the  inscrip- 
tion at  his  feet,  "Cave  Canem,"  that  covered  the 
floor  of  the  Vestibuhwi,  in  the  House  of  Glaucus,  as 
described  by  Bulwer  in  his  "Last  Days  of  Pompeii." 
Also,  the  splendid  mosaic,  representing  the  battle 
between  Darius  and  Alexander,  taken  from  the  House 
of  Diomede. 

Along  the  Strada  Toledo — the  Broadway  of  Naples — 
the  stranger  finds  much  to  amuse,  but  more  to  annoy 
him.  Among  some  of  the  "  tableaux  vivants  "  he  will 
see  many  old  men  and  women,  sitting  behind  their 
stalls,  with  piles  of  copper  coin  upon  their  coun- 
ters. These  are  the  "  Gambia  Monete,"  or  money 
changers  for  the  rabble  route.  The  profits  of  this 
brokerage  must  be  most  beggarly,  and  yet  there  they 
sit  with  all  the  dignity  and  importance  of  a  Wall 
street  merchant.  We  wonder  if  they  are  quoted  on 
change  !  Then  there  are  the  cabmen  —  a  difierent 
class  of  men — who  hiss  and  crack  their  whips,  and 
cry  "  Signer  "  at  you  as  you  pass  ;  and  if  you  will 
not  deign  them  a  notice  they  will  sometimes  drive 
their  shabby  vehicles  along  by  your  side,  keeping 
pace  with  you  for  some  hundred  yards,  and  not  unfre- 
quently  check  their  cabs  directly  across  your  path,  to 


Memories  oveu  the  Wateu.  259 

impede  your  progi'ess,  and,  if  possible,  to  compel  you 
to  get  in  and  ride  ;  for  which  kindness  you  feel  a 
strong  inclination  to  knock  the  rascals  from  their 
boxes,  from  which,  however,  you  are  deterred  by  the 
reflection  that  you  arc  thereby  waging  war  with 
notliincr  to  <2;ain  aud  all  to  lose. 


CHAPTER    XXXIX. 

On  the  evening  of  the  26th  of  November  we  made 
an  early  rise,  and  finding  the  heavens  free  of  clouds 
we  prepared  to  visit  the  ruins  of  Pompeii.  TVe  had  a 
rank  republican  for  our  guide,  who  informed  us  that 
the  king  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  time  at  his 
palace  in  the  country,  and  seldom  came  to  Naples  for 
fear  of  being  assassinated.  Indeed  wherever  and  when- 
ever in  Italy  we  were  enabled  to  converse  with  the 
populace,  we  found  a  republican,  or  at  least  a  revo- 
lutionary spirit  running  riot  through  their  thoughts. 
But  at  nine  o'clock,  a,  m.,  we  were  on  the  move  from 
the  railway  station,  and  winding  along  the  shore  of 
the  bay,  now  looking  out  upon  its  joyous  waters, 
and  now  darting  through  immense  quarries  of  lava, 
we  passed  by  Portici,  Resini,  Torre  del  Greco,  Torre 
del  Annunciata,  and  moving  partly  around  the  base 
of  Vesuvius  we  were  deposited  at  the  Pompeii  station. 
Along  the  route  we  observed  cotton  growing,  but  the 
stalks  were  small,  the  bolls  dirty  and  undeveloped, 
and  the  quality  of  the  cotton,  of  course,  indiflerent. 
At  Hotel  Dioraede  one  of  the  guides,  in  government 
uniform,  took  us   in  charge,  and  ascending  a  slight 

rise  of  ground  we  stood  amid  the  rnins  of  Pompeii. 
(2G0  ) 


J\I  KMOKIKt)    ONKli    TIIIO    WaTKK.  2f)l 

You  do  not  descend  into  the  i^ronnd,  as  we  liad  been 
led  to  suppose,  to  enter  this  fated  city ;  the  entire 
superstratum  of  lava,  ashes  and  soil,  has  all  been 
removed,  and  the  naked  walls  of  the  city  lie  before 
you,  but  robbed  of  their  chief  beauty  and  valuables. 
"We  entered  "the  city  of  the  dead"  on  part  of  the 
old  Appian  Way,  in  whose  stone  pavements  you  may 
still  trace  the  mark  of  wheels.  The  streets  of  Pompeii 
arc  very  narrow,  the  houses  very  small  and  generally 
of  one  story  only — but  were  most  elegantly  and  luxu- 
riously furnished.  They  arc  not  so  high  nor  spacious 
as  the  buildinois  of  modern  times.  Their  construction 
was  curious,  but  most  convenient.  You  enter  by  the 
vestihulum  into  the  airiian^  round  which  are  ranged 
the  cuhicula.  In  the  center  of  the  atrium  is  the 
irrfpluvhim^  a  receptacle  for  the  water  in  time  of 
rain,  as  the  atrium  is  unprotected  by  any  roof.  In  the 
rear  of  the  atrium  is  the  peristylum.  All  of  these 
apartments  arc  on  a  small  scale,  and  to  judge  from 
the  size  of  their  dining-rooms  one  would  conclude 
that  the  citizens  of  Pompeii  esteemed  it  eminently 
ungenteel  to  give  large  entertainments. 

The  work  of  excavation  is  still  going  on  at  Pompeii. 
According  to  the  map,  much  of  the  city  still  remains 
under-ground,  though  it  is  probable  the  best  portion 
has  been  disentombed.  Mosaics,  frescoes,  sculp- 
tures—  all  that  bespeaks  the  perfection  of  art  and 
civilization  may  here  be  found,  and  forming  an  over- 
whelming evidence  of  the  luxury,  genius  and  refine- 
ment of  these  people.     Not  only  this,  but  such  proof 


262  JMemories  over  the  Water. 

of  their  abandoned  and  licentious  morals,  such  confir- 
mation of  a  lascivious  and  wanton  brutality,  that  one 
cannot  wonder  that  the  judgments  of  Heaven  should 
have  fallen  upon  their  heads,  even  to  their  utter  ex- 
tinction as  a  city.  It  is  both  melancholy  and  humi- 
liating to  wander  through  the  empty  rooms,  stripped 
of  their  ornaments,  save  here  and  there  some  frag- 
ments of  mosaic  or  some  half-obliterated  fresco  —  and 
to  think  that  all  our  efibrts  are  bounded  by  a  bourne 
long  since  reached  in  these  unburied  walls,  and  that 
our  boasted  march  of  intellect  has  had  a  parallel  in 
the  calendar  of  time.  The  seal  of  two  thousand  years 
has  been  removed,  and  we  discover  the  corpse  of  a 
mere  provincial  town  of  the  Roman  Empire,  arrayed 
in  more  than  the  laborious  splendor  of  our  most  ex- 
alted capitals.  In  such  a  place  the  ghostly  phantoms 
of  by-gone  grandeur  rear  their  sable  images  before 
the  explorer  of  the  past,  and  with  an  unearthly  great- 
ness haunt  the  soul.  We  feel  that  we  are,  at  least, 
but  imitators,  and  if  all  the  inventions  of  past  days 
could  be  rent  from  the  dark  cloud  in  which  they  are 
shrouded,  we  might  blush  for  the  boyishness  of  our 
pride.  We  shall  not  be  surprised  if  they  should  one 
of  these  days  find  a  telegraph  office,  or  a  steam  engine 
with  an  improvement  on  the  caloric  principle,  in  one 
of  the  Roman  Yillas.  A  few  of  the  singular  features 
of  Pompeii  are  the  tombs,  situated  immediately  on  the 
jjublic  street ;  also  an  assignation  house  immediately 
opposite  the  Temple  of  the  Vestal  Yirgins. 

But  for  a  brief  outline  of  our  explorations.     We 


Memories  ovku  the  Wati;r.  2t>3 

went  first  to  the  House  of  Diomede,  and  descended 
into  the  wine  cellars  of  the  wealthy  roue.  These 
vaults  consist  of  a  long  under-ground  hall,  running 
along  the  outer  foundations  of  the  building,  forming 
three  sides  of  a  parallelogram.  We  saw  there  many 
of  the  old  wine-jars,  their  contents,  singular  to  relate, 
having  been  displaced  and  supplanted  by  the  pene- 
tratincr  ashes.  The  floors  of  this  house  were  laid  with 
mosaic.  After  exploring  the  dining-room,  the  fish- 
pond, and  the  wine-cooler,  we  proceeded  up  the  Rue 
des  Tombeaux  —  so  called  from  the  tombs  and  monu- 
ments erected  on  either  side — and  entered  the  city 
proper.  Attached  to  one  of  these  tombs,  we  saw  the 
furnace  used  for  burning  the  bodies  of  the  dead.  On 
the  right-hand,  as  you  enter  the  city,  not  far  from  the 
gate,  there  are  circular  scats  of  marble,  where  the 
priests  were  wont  to  sit  and  converse  on  an  afternoon. 
Around  this  circle  we  observed  the  following  in- 
scription : 

MaximcB,  P.  F.  Sacerdoti  PubliccB  Locus.  Sepul- 
iur  Datus  Decurionum  Decreto. 

"We  entered  the  city  by  the  Porte  cV  Jlerculaninn., 
and  saw  the  spot,  where  the  faithful  Eoman  soldier 
stood,  and  perished  at  his  post.  His  skull,  skeleton 
and  helmet  were  found,  and  placed  in  the  Museum. 
A  good  portion  of  the  ancient  walls  of  Pompeii  still 
exist.  We  saw  in  one  dilapidated  house,  the  family 
altar,  where  the  household  made  their  private  sacri- 
fice. On  each  of  its  four  sides  were  appropriate 
frescoes.     In    the    court-vards   we   found    fountains, 


264  Memories   over  the  AVater. 

beautifully  decorated  with  shells  and  mosaic.  On  the 
floor  of  the  vestihulum  you  may  still  trace  the  word — 
Salve — a  beautiful  custom,  we  thought,  and  indicative 
of  the  hospitable  disposition  of  the  Pompeian  people. 
We  saw  restaurants,  and  baker-shops,  with  stoves  for 
baking  the  bread  and  stones  for  grinding  the  grain, 
not  very  dissimilar  from  those  of  the  present  day.  We 
entered  the  House  of  Sallust,  containing  several  an- 
tique frescoes,  among  them  the  bathing  scene  of 
Diana  and  Actseon,  the  Eape  of  Europa,  Mars  and 
"Venus,  and  other  such -like  representations.  We  saw 
the  house  of  Pansa,  the  sedile,  with  its  Corinthian 
columns  and  capitals  in  i\\Q  peristyhim.  We  saw  the 
house  of  the  tragic  Poet,  with  its  obscene  frescoes, 
and  drank  a  glass  of  wine  in  the  Public  Bath-IIouse, 
whose  arrangements  of  luxury  and  beauty  far  surpassed 
any  of  the  present  day.  We  visited  the  Temple  of 
Fortune,  situated  at  the  corner  of  the  street  of  Fortune 
and  the  street  of  Mercury.  We  entered  the  house  of 
the  Fountain,  and  the  house  of  the  Fawn,  as  also 
several  shops  for  the  sale  of  oil.  We  looked  in  at  the 
House  of  the  Musician,  the  last  one  exhumed  at  that 
time,  with  many  pieces  of  statuary  left,  by  request  of 
the  King,  in  the  same  position  as  when  found.  We 
saw  the  Temple  of  Isis,  and  stood  in  the  room  in 
which  the  six  skeletons  were  discovered.  Here  we 
met  a  hideous  remnant  of  humanity — a  decrepid  old 
man  —  a  living  emblem  of  the  city  about  us  —  the 
hermit  of  the  ruins — who  on  our  approach  began  to 
blow  most   lustily  on   his    pipes,   at  the   same   time 


Mkmories   over  tiik  Water.  205 

raakinf^  several  lame  cflbrts  at  a  shiiftling  dance. 
Ills  rcjward  was  a  few  coppers,  thoui^h  as  for  his 
music  we  had  rather  paid  him  to  be  quiet.  We  saw 
the  Theater  for  Trairedy,  the  Barracks,  and  the 
Theater  for  Comedy.  On  the  floor  of  the  last  men- 
tioned there  is  a  fine  bronze  inscription  which  reads 
thus — M.  Olconius,  M.  F.  Verus.  II.  Vir  _pro 
Liidis. 

We  now  went  out  beyond  the  city  walls  and  visited 
the  Amphitheater.  The  walls  of  tlie  arena  are 
rimmed  with  white  marble  slabs,  and  tlio  buildino; 
generally  is  in  a  fine  state  of  preservation.  The 
transverse  axis  is  four  hundred  feet  in  length  and  the 
ordinate  three  hundred  and  fifteen.  This  visit  con- 
cluded, we  returned  to  the  railway  station,  to  be  in 
readiness  for  the  down-train  at  half-past  three  o'clock, 
p.  M.  Here  we  met  several  of  the  upper-ten  lazza- 
roni,  who,  with  their  guitars,  their  songs  and  dances, 
beguiled  our  leisure  time.  We  reached  Naples  again 
in  due  time,  well  pleased  with  our  trip  to  Pompeii. 
While  in  Naples,  we  on  one  occasion  met  the  Queen, 
on  the  Strada  Chiaja.  She  was  riding  in  rather  a 
plain  carriage,  drawn  by  a  single  pair  of  fine  bay 
horses,  and  preceded  by  a  single  outrider.  Her 
Majesty  has  not  a  very  prepossessing  person. 

On  the  mornins:  of  the  2Sth  of  November  we  made 
an  excursion  out  to  Baia3,  down  the  Strada  Chiaja, 
past  the  Villa  Rcale  and  the  Tomb  of  Virgil,  and 
through  the  long,  high-roofed  and  lamp-lighted  Grotto 
Posilipo.     The  first  thing  on  the  day's  programme 


266  Memories   over  the  Water. 

was  the  Lago  d'Agnano,  a  small  body  of  water  occn- 
pying  the  crater  of  an  exhausted  volcano.  Here  we 
found  the  famous  Sulphur  Baths,  where  you  are 
steamed  by  the  warm  vapor  that  rises  from  out  the 
soil.  Next  we  proceeded,  under  the  direction  of  a 
long-legged,  slab-sided,  cone-headed  guide,  to  a  cer- 
tain part  of  the  lake,  where  hot  water  bubbles  up  in 
the  midst  of  cold.  Thence  to  the  Grotto  del  Cane, 
from  which  arises  a  deadly  gas.  A  torch,  on  being 
placed  near  the  ground,  was  immediately  extin- 
guished. An  old  woman  had  a  little  dog  in  readiness 
to  show  its  effect  upon  an  animate  creature.  The 
nose  of  the  poor  canine  was  thrust  within  reach  of 
the  noxious  atmosphere,  when  he  soon  began  to 
scuffle  and  make  desperate  efforts  to  escape.  But  his 
tormentor  held  him  firmly,  until  his  struggles  began 
to  relax.  His  energies  seemed  exhausted,  and  with 
tongue  lolling  from  his  mouth,  and  eyes  rolling  as  if 
in  the  agonies  of  death,  he  grew  perfectly  still.  He 
was  now  taken  out  and  laid  upon  the  ground ;  when 
in  a  few  moments  he  recovered,  and  went  frisking 
about  as  gayly  as  ever.  We  went  next  to  the  crater 
of  another  exhausted  volcano,  which  on  being  struck 
with  a  pole  gave  forth  a  hollow,  rumbling  sound,  as 
if  there  were  only  a  thin  shell,  upon  which  we  stood, 
and  beneath  an  immense  gulf  in  the  earth.  Here 
we  saw  them  manufacturing  alum ;  the  furnace  was 
simply  the  old  Volcano,  in  whose  crater  we  were 
standing,  the  heat  from  below  being  amply  sufficient 


Memories   over  the  Water,  267 

for  tliG  boiling  of  water.  At  one  extremity  of  the 
crater  we  found  a  small  cavern,  through  which  the 
steam  was  roaring  and  hissing  at  a  terrible  rate.  Its 
appearance  was  anything  but  pleasant,  and  we  could 
almost  imagine  it  the  mouth  of  hell.  We  felt  a 
])leasant  relief  when  wo  got  safely  out  from  the 
crater. 

We  next  successively  visited  the  Amphitheater,  the 
Temple  of  Jupiter  Serapis,  the  Temple  of  Diana,  the 
Temple  of  Mercury,  and  the  Temple  of  Venus  —  all 
of  which  are  now  a  medley  of  ruins.  Then  we  saw 
the  Lake  of  Avernus,  an  insignificant  body  of  water, 
lying  hard  by  the  coast  of  the  bay.  Then  saw  Baia3, 
a  succession  of  moldering  walls  and  arches.  Then 
the  Lago  del  Fusara,  the  Mare  Morto,  and  the  famous 
Elysian  Fields.  From  this  point  we  returned  to 
Naples,  winding  along  the  Bay  of  Eaioe,  which  we 
thought  equal,  in  point  of  beauty,  to  the  Bay  of 
Naples,  We  passed  by  the  Baths  of  Nero,  the  Lago 
Lucrino,  and  through  the  village  of  Pozzuoli.  Again 
we  entered  the  Grotto  Posilipo,  and  soon  after  reached 
our  hotel,  with  the  conviction  that  the  entire  region  of 
country  round  about  Naples  was  of  a  most  wonderful 
and  extraordinary  nature.  The  stranger,  as  he  looks 
upon  its  many  volcanoes — some  exhausted,  but  many 
still  in  motion — almost  fears  to  trust  himself  lono^  in 
that  country.  On  one  side  is  the  old  monster  Vesu- 
vius, and  on  the  other  an  uninterrupted  succession  of 
what  were   once   volcanoes,  and   from  whose  white 


2G8  Memories   over  the  Water. 

craters  the  smoke  and  steam  still  hiss.  It  would  not 
be  unreasonable  to  suppose  that,  some  day  or  other 
the  entire  country  will  collapse,  when  a  general  blow- 
ing up  and  caving  in  shall  change  the  whole  aspect  of 
that  region. 

On  reaching  our  hotel  we  were  delighted  to  meet 
our  old  traveling  companion,  Brevard,  of  North 
Carolina,  and  Col.  W.  P.  Bryan,  of  Nashville. 


CHAPTER    XL. 


On  the  calendar  of  our  days  we  "mark  with  a 
white  stone"  the  27th  of  November,  1851,  for  on  that 
day  we  stood  upon  the  summit  of  Mount  Vesuvius. 
The  weather  was  favorable,  and  about  nine  o'clock  in 
the  morning  we  set  out  from  the  hotel  door.     Our 
party  numbered  thirteen  persons,  eleven  gentlemen 
and   two   ladies,  and   filled   up  two   large  traveling 
coaches.     Thus  mounted  we  rattled  away  from  the 
Hotel    des    Etrangers,    wound    around    the    Strada 
Gigante,  passed  by  the  Royal  Palace,  and  struck  out 
into  the  broad  and  well-paved  road,  running  along 
the  eastern   shore  of  the  bay.     At  the  village  of 
Eecini  we  all  got  out,  and  descended  into  the  ancient 
city  of  Herculaneum,  by  means  of  steps  hewn  out  of 
the  solid  bed  of  lava.     Eecini  is  built  immediately 
over  the  ancient  site  of  Herculaneum,  and  owing  to 
this  fact  very  little  excavation  has  been  made.     We 
descended  to  a  considerable  depth  into  this  voiceless 
city  of  the  dead,  and,  under  the  pilotage  of  guides 
with  torches,  rambled  through   the  coiTidors  of  an 
ancient    theater,    a  large    and    handsome  building, 
whose  arrangement  is  not  niuch  dissimilar  from  the 

( 2Gi)  ) 


270  Memories   over  the  AVateb, 

theaters  of  the  present  day.     This  is  ahoiit  all  that 
the  traveler  sees  of  Ilerculaneum. 

Ascending  again  to  the  light  of  day  we  made  pre- 
paration for  the  ascent  of  Vesuvius.  A  majority  of 
the  gentlemen  determined  on  walking  from  the  vil- 
lage up  to  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  a  distance  of 
several  miles,  and  not  to  he  outdone,  we  agreed  to 
keep  them  company.  On  leaving  Eecini  we  were 
beset  with  a  crowd  of  lazzaroni,  who,  with  bundles  of 
walking-canes  in  their  hands,  endeavored  to  torment 
us  into  a  purchase.  We  had  to  beat  one  importunate 
scamp  over  the  head  with  our  overcoat,  before -"we 
could  get  shed  of  him.  But  no  sooner  had  we  passed 
the  outer  limits  of  the  village  than  a  new  persecution 
succeeded.  This  latter  was  a  squad  of  lazzaroni, 
mounted  on  horses,  who  came  capering  and  prancing 
about  us,  pronouncing  all  manner  of  encomiums  on 
their  steeds,  and  assuring  us  M^e  would  find  the  road 
very  rough  and  fatiguing.  This  was  of  course  done 
to  induce  us  to  hire  a  horse  ;  but  we  had  determined 
on  walking,  and  so  pressed  on  without  heeding  their 
solicitations.  The  entire  troop  now  fell  behind,  and 
were  soon  lost  to  sight.  We  concluded  they  had 
given  over  their  hopes  of  making  any  profit  out  of  our 
party,  and  had  returned  to  the  village.  But  in  this 
we  were  much  mistaken.  It  was  only  a  ruse  du 
guen^e  on  the  part  of  the  adversary ;  for  suddenly  we 
heard  a  great  clattering  of  feet  over  the  rocky  road, 
and  looking  back  we  saw  the  same  band  of  equestrians 
come  racing  on  with  whip  and  spur,  whoo])ing  and 


Memories   oveii  the  Watee.  271 

squalling  like  so  many  mad  devils  just  broke  loose 
from  the  caverns  of  Hades.  On  they  dashed  ;  but  on 
reachini^  the  rear-guard  of  our  party  they  reined  in 
their  horses,  and  again  renewed  their  invitations  for 
a  ride. 

This  sport  was  too  much  for  our  weakness  to  with- 
stand, and  so  bidding  our  comrades  adieu,  we  took 
the  pick  of  the  crowd,  paid  the  rider  the  price  of  a 
day's  hire,  and  springing  to  the  back  of  our  mountain 
pony,  we  mingled  in  the  crowd  of  lazzaroni,  and  lent 
our  voice  to  the  general  cry  of  our  Neapolitan  com- 
rades. Our  gallant  little  steed  bore  us  bravely  for- 
ward ;  was  fleet  of  limb,  and  strikingly  like  "Bullit," 
whom  we  had  so  often  backed  in  the  camp-hunts  of 
Arkansas.  Sagacious,  sure-footed,  and  spirited ; 
spiteful  too,  he  was,  and  would  throw  his  heels  with 
a  perfect  looseness  on  being  provoked.  A  short  ride 
now  brought  us  to  the  Hermitage,  where,  in  our  anx- 
iety to  press  on,  we  left  the  remainder  of  our  party, 
and  with  Clay,  of  New  York,  dashed  on  for  the  foot 
of  tlie  Cone,  passing,  in  our  route,  the  Observatory — 
a  very  neat  and  handsome  building,  and  so  situated 
on  the  back-bone  of  a  high  ridge  as  to  be  out  of  the 
reach  of  the  lava  in  times  of  eruption,  "We  now 
entered  on  that  bleak  and  dreary  field,  that  sweeps 
down  from  the  brow  of  Vesuvius  to  the  plains  below ; 
a  scene  of  utter  desolation.  On  its  dark  and  dismal 
surface  blooms  no  flower,  grows  no  blade  of  grass. 
All  is  one  mass  of  curled  and  crisped  lava,  as  it 
rolled  its  blood-red  tide  from  the  mouth  of  Nature's 


272  Memories  ovek  the  Watek. 

great  furnace,  and  cooling,  clothed  the  mountain  in 
a  mantle  of  hideous  gloom;  bare  and  barren,  and 
black  as  the  hills  of  Tartarus.  It  is  the  violence  of 
JSTature  in  her  most  infernal  form;  whole  miles  of 
rough,  up-turned  lava,  lying  like  huge  masses  of  iron 
ore  in  wild  disorder.  Nothing  could  leave  a  more 
fearful  memorial  of  the  wrath  of  Vesuvius.  War  has 
its  wreck,  but  also  its  returning  bloom ;  decay  its 
herbage;  the  desert  waste  its  palm  and  shrub;  but 
here  all  is  one  dark,  lifeless,  joyless,  mis-shapen 
region.  But  despite  the  dreary  aspect  a  buoyant 
feeling  was  dancing  in  our  heart,  the  spirit  of  excite- 
ment ran  high  in  our  veins,  and  we  challenged  our 
comrade  to  a  race.  No  sooner  offered  than  accepted, 
and  away  we  sprang,  with  a  hoop  and  wild  halloo, 
along  the  flinty  pathway,  making  the  cavernous 
mountain-side  echo  with  our  memment.  Beside,  a 
couple  of  lazzaroni  had  accompanied  us  on  foot,  hold- 
ing by  the  tails  of  our  horses ;  and  no  sooner  did  they 
see  the  premonitions  of  the  race  than,  griping  with 
a  vice-like  grasp  their  several  tails,  they  held  on 
like  grim  death,  though  we  spurred  on  at  the  top  of 
our  speed.  It  was  forsooth  an  odd  and  laughable 
sight  —  two  horsemen  going  with  whip  and  spur  at  a 
furious  rate,  over  a  rough  and  broken  pathway,  with 
a  lazzaroni  clinging  to  the  tail  of  each  horse,  his  long 
red  cap  dancing  gayly  in  the  breeze.  It  was  a  scene 
for  the  Lady  Gay  Spanker  to  portray.  On  reaching 
the  foot  of  the  Cone,  we  dismounted  and  commenced 
climbing  toward  tlie  top  of  the  Crater,  leaving  our 


Memokies   oveu  the  Water.  273 

horses  in  charge  of  a  man  below.  Here  again  we 
were  set  upon  by  the  lazzaroni,  who  would  insist  on 
helping  us  up.  Tliey  ke])t  close  in  our  rear,  and  on 
the  first  indication  of  fatigue  would  renew  the  ofier 
of  their  assistance.  But  no,  we  obstinately  met  ob- 
stinacy ;  and  every  now  and  then,  as  we  paused  for  a 
breathing  spell,  we  would  lecture  our  persevering 
audience  on  their  indelicate  breach  of  good  manners  ; 
all  of  which,  as  they  understood  not  a  word  that  was 
said,  they  received  with  stupid  respect.  But  Clay,  at 
last,  became  weary  and  impatient,  and  accepted  the 
assistance  so  eagerly  profiered.  One  pulled  him  up 
in  front,  another  pushed  him  up  from  behind  ;  and  no 
sooner  did  they  reach  the  top  than  they  all  made  an 
enormous  demand  upon  his  purse.  This  was  as  we 
expected.  With  this  hope  they  had  perse veringly 
trotted  the  whole  distance,  and  now,  with  some  show 
of  justice,  they  came  down  like  locusts  upon  poor 
Clay.  There  was  no  refusing,  and  so  he  had  to 
"shell  out."  Let  but  an  Italian  hold  your  coat  for  an 
instant,  or  touch  your  bridle-rein,  and  there  is  no 
getting  rid  of  him  without  a  heavy  forfeit. 

The  ascent  of  the  Cone  is  exceedingly  steep,  and 
very  laborious,  owing  to  the  rough  and  uncertain  foot- 
ing. Every  few  moments  we  would  pause  to  enjoy 
the  view,  which  grew  wilder  and  grander  as  we 
ascended.  Naples  and  its  famous  ba}' — the  islands  of 
Capri  and  Ischia — the  blue  waves  of  the  Mediterra- 
nean, and  the  wide-spreading  plains,  the  hazy  moun- 

23 


274  Memories   over  the  AVater. 

tains  and  yellow  valleys,  were  all  spread  out  in  one 
glorious  panorama  ;  while  just  above  our  heads  rolled 
the  sulphurous  smoke  from  the  mouth  of  the  volcano, 
curling  lazily  away  like  some  torpid  serpent.     On 
reaching  the  summit  we  drew  on  our  overcoat,  for  the 
wind  was  now  blowing  high  and  chill.    Without  ven- 
turing any  further  we  here  awaited  our  friends  below 
with  the  guide.     They  all  soon  made  their  appear- 
ance, some  borne  on  the  shoulders  of  the  lazzaroni  in 
a  port-a-chaise^  some  assisted  up  as  Clay  was,  and 
some  independently  as  we  ascended.     At  last  we  all 
stood  upon  the  summit,  and  now  placing  ourselves 
under  the  direction  of  the  guide,  we  proceeded  over 
what  seemed  the  bed  of  an  exhausted  crater,  and 
next,  scrambling  through  a  dense  cloud  of  sulphur- 
ous smoke,  we   stood  upon  the  lip  of  the  principal 
crater.     The  steam  and  smoke  came  boiling  up  from 
the  abyss  at  our  feet,  and  utterly  prevented  our  look- 
ing down.     The  sulphur  was  so  strong  as  almost  to 
suffocate  us,  and  we  would  frequently  have  to  retreat 
a  few  steps  to  recover  breath.     We  were  told  though, 
that  this  smoke  was  not  only  innoxious,  but  in  fact 
beneficial  to  the  lungs,  and  so  we  stood  it  out  like 
martyrs. 

An  old,  gray-headed  veteran,  who  had  followed 
us  from  the  foot  of  the  Cone,  now  produced  a  bas- 
ket of  refreshments,  which,  though  not  suited  to  the 
most  fastidious  palate,  yet  to  men  in  our  condition 
presented   a  most    inviting  display.     Among  other 


Memouies  ovek  the  Wateu.  275 

items  were  several  bottles  of  M'ine,  whose  contents 
most  magically  disappeared. 

But  just  here,  as  we  stood  on  the  very  verge  of  the 
crater,  the  dense  clouds  of  smoke  spouting  up  from 
the  great  caldron  below,  and  wreathing  themselves 
in  fantastic  shapes  about  our  head,  a  thought  of  home 
and  its  bright-eyed  beauties  flashed  over  our  mind. 
The  blue-eyes  of  Nashville  were  before  us,  and  as  in 
imagination  we  traced  their  fairy  forms  in  the  sportive 
eddies  of  the  M'hirling  smoke,  we  raised  a  brimming 
bumper  of  tlie  Lacryma  Christi  to  our  lips,  and 
pledged  all  health  and  happiness  "to  the  girl  we  left 
behind  us."  Anon  a  puff  of  wind  would  clear  away 
the  clouds  of  vapor  that  issued  from  the  slumbering 
fires  below,  and  revealed  to  our  sight  the  forms  of  our 
companions,  dimly  seen  through  the  cloudy  vail,  and 
moving  like  the  misty  spirits  of  the  unknown  land 
about  the  yawning  mouth  of  that  fearful  pit,  where 
"  the  worm  dieth  not  and  the  fire  is  not  quenched." 
It  was  a  capital  idea  of  the  ancients  to  suppose  the 
existence  of  some  Titanic  form  under  this  superin- 
cumbent mass,  struggling  to  release  itself,  and  with 
each  effort  belching  forth  his  thick,  hot  breath.  It  is 
a  miniature  representation  of  the  infernal  regions,  and 
likely  to  awaken  serious  reflections  upon  the  locality 
and  character  of  that  much -disputed  place. 

"We  remained  on  the  top  of  the  mountain  about  two 
hours,  and  then  made  our  descent  from  the  other  side, 
through  the  deep  cinders  into  which  you  sink  anklo 


270  Memories  over  the  Water. 

deep  at  every  step.  It  is  very  steep,  and  if  the  doc- 
trine of  specific  gravity,  as  connected  with  equi- 
librium, be  forgotten,  one  might  lose  his  balance  and 
shame  the  speed  of  steam  ere  he  reached  the  bottom. 
But  we  all  reached  our  hotel  at  Naples  that  evening, 
without  a  serious  accident,  well  pleased  with  the  day's 
adventures.  For  the  novelty,  the  excitement  and  the 
dangers  of  this  excursion,  the  ascent  of  Vesuvius  far 
surpasses  the  generality  of  incidents  in  a  European 
tour. 


CHAPTER    XLI 


At  Naples  we  parted  with  our  traveling  companions, 
Ewing,  Johnstone,  McGavock,  Price,  and  our  knight 
of  the  razor,  Frank  Parrish  ;  they  to  bend  their  pilgrim 
steps  toward  the  Holy  Land,  and  we  to  winter  in  the 
gay  capital  of  France.  Brevard  was  to  sail  in  a  few 
days  for  Greece,  Col.  Kimmel  had  resolved  to  look  upon 
the  dark-eyed  senoritas  of  Spain,  while  Bogan  wished 
to  linger  longer  by  the  Bay  of  Naples.  And  thus 
was  our  pleasant  party  dispersed  in  devious  routes. 

At  four  o'clock,  p.  m.,  Fogg  and  ourself  bade  adieu 
to  onr  friends,  and  taking  a  cab  from  the  door  of  our 
hotel,  we  started  for  the  steamer  that  was  to  bear  us 
along  the  western  shore  of  Italy  to  the  city  of  Mar- 
seilles, on  the  coast  of  Southern  France.  On  reaching 
the  Molo  we  discharged  our  cabman,  and  were  about 
having  the  baggage  placed  in  the  skifl",  in  waiting  to 
receive  it,  when  a  fellow  in  uniform  rushed  up,  and 
intimated  that  it  was  his  peculiar  province  and  privi- 
lege to  inspect  all  baggage  before  its  going  aboard. 
We  had  been  too  much  accustomed  to  such  demands 
to  demur,  and  so  forthwith  whipped  out  our  keys, 
and  were  about  to  unlock,  when  a  gentle,  quiet 
nudge  in  the  side  from  the  elbow  of  the  official  caused 

(  277  ) 


278  Memories  o\t<;r  the  "Water. 

us  to  inquire,  by  our  look  of  astonisbmGnt,  "What 
the  devil  he  meant."  Not  receiving  any  verbal  reply, 
we  did  not  yet  take^  and  again  proceeded  to  unlock, 
when  a  second  gentle,  quiet  tap,  and  a  significant 
twinkle  in  the  eye  of  the  ossifer  at  once  revealed  the 
mystery  of  his  conduct.  "Without  more  ado  we  drop- 
ped some  silver  coin  into  his  inviting  palm,  and 
followed  our  unopened  baggage  to  the  skiff.  He 
waved  us  an  affectionate  adieu — a  graceful  hon  voy- 
age^ and  we  thought  on  the  farce  of  government,  the 
vanity  of  trust,  the  power  of  gold.  In  a  few  moments 
we  reached  the  vessel's  side,  and  paying  off  our  jolly 
watermen,  we  sprung  up  the  water-ladders  and  stood 
upon  the  deck,  "cribbed,  cabined,  and  confined" 
aboard  the  steamer  Capri,  bound  for  the  port  of  Civita 
Vecchia. 

It  was  about  the  set  of  sun  when  our  little  vessel 
slipped  her  cables,  and  sped  rapidly  out  into  the  bay, 
passing  by  an  American  man-of-war,  that  was  rock- 
ing lazily  to  the  swell,  as  she  lay  anchored  out  in 
the  harbor,  her  black-mouthed  guns  gaping  on  the 
city-walls,  and  the  stars  and  stripes  dancing  in  the 
evening  breeze.  A  sight  of  that  flag  in  a  foreign 
land  brings  a  tear  of  pride  and  joy  to  the  eye  of  tlie 
wandering  American,  and  the  heart,  with  full  voice, 
shouts  —  God  bless  the  banner  of  the  free!  "We 
lino-ered  on  the  deck  to  take  our  farewell  view  of 
Naples  and  her  glorious  bay ;  of  old  Yesuvius  and  the 
bold,  bare  island  of  Capri ;  of  St.  Elmo  and  Castel-a-e- 
mare;   all  bathed  in  a  flood  of  golden   sun-light — 


Memories  ovku  the  Water.  270 

blusliins:  under  tiic  soft  warm  kiss  of  the  settinoj  sun. 
As  nii^ht  came  on  we  rounded  Cape  Miseum,  and 
stood  out  in  open  ocean.  But  now  the  dinner 
bell — "that  tocsin  of  the  soul"  —  sent  its  summons 
through  the  cabin.  The  ground-swell  was  heavy 
and  few  had   the  heart  to  look  dinner  in  the  face. 

But  F and    ourself   had  fasted   since  breakfast, 

and  60  repaired,  with  the  courage  of  Caesar,  to  the 
attack.  We  sat  down  with  the  air  of  one  who  had 
seen  salt  water  before,  and  dashed  right  gallantly 
into  the  smoking  viands.  A  few  moments  rolled 
silently  by,  when  on  looking  up  we  thought  a  shade 
of  deepest  melancholy  seemed  to  flit  for  an  instant 
over  the  face  of  our  friend.  He  laid  gently  down  his 
knife  and  fork,  and  paused,  as  if  the  soft  memory  of 
some  fond  hour  were  brooding  on  his  heart.  The 
spell  passes  away.  Again  he  resumes  the  weapons 
of  destruction,  and  falls  fearfully  to  work.  But  the 
phantom  dream  has  come  again.  Ilis  soul  seems  to 
heave  like  the  billows  below.  The  shadow  of  some 
deep  sorrow  steals  over  the  now  anxious  face.  Pain 
and  grief  speak  in  his  mournful  eyes.  A  naiTOw 
twitching  of  the  mouth  tells  of  the  struggle  that  is 
going  on.  But  see !  his  emotions  overcome  him. 
lie  rises  from  his  seat  and  rushes  from  the  cabin — 
Neptune's  spasmodic  victim. 

There  is  a  romance  about  the  ocean,  but  it  shows  bet- 
ter from  the  shore  to  many  poetically  disposed  and — 
biliously  inclined.  It  requires  only  one  sea-emetic  to 
dush  the  beauty  and  poetry  of  ocean  info  dream-land. 


2S0  Memoeies   over  the  "Water. 

In  the  eyes  of  a  ship-steward  few  men  are  heroes. 
The  ocean,  like  death,  is  a  great  leveler.  It  takes  the 
starch  out  of  human  dignity,  and  is  an  excellent 
moralist  on  the  vanity  of  pride.  Napoleon  Bonaparte 
could  not  stand  the  sea,  and  the  rebellious  Ilonian 
had  not  yet  embarked  when  he  talked  so  proudly  of 
"Caesar  and  his  fortunes."  Byron  was  in  the  habit, 
it  is  said,  of  "  playing  familiar  with  ocean's  hoary 
locks,"  while  the  old  fellow,  doubtless,  reciprocated 
the  compliment  by  playing  familiar  with  the  poet's 
stomach.  Csesar,  we  venture  to  say,  has,  like  any 
other  saltwater  victim,  felt  an  intense  inclination  to 
turn  himself  inside  out  like  you  would  a  turkey's 
gizzard  ;  and  Bonaparte  gazed  for  hours  at  vacuity 
with  that  defiant  air,  something  like  the  look  a  negro 
would  throw  out  in  giving  Hamlet's  soliloquy.  But 
shades  of  the  departed  forgive  us ! 

Would  you  see  then  the  photographic  picture  of  the 
modern  victim  ?  Mark  that  young  man  coiled  up  in 
the  corner  of  yonder  lounge,  like  a  torpid  constrictor 
basking  in  the  sun.  One  would  suppose  from  the 
desperate  energy  with  which  he  has  fastened  on  his 
hat  that  he  never  intended  to  take  it  off  in  this  world. 
He  is  in  the  last  stage  of  a  temporary  relaxation — in 
the  negative  enjoyment  of  bilious  repose.  He  is  at 
this  moment  comparatively  happy,  and  fondly  im- 
agines the  last  link  that  bound  him  to  his  breakfast 
is  broken.  But  were  you  barbarian  enough  to  whis- 
per "  gravy !"  in  his  ear,  the  evil  spirits  would  gather, 
and  you  would  see  him  looking  steadfastly  down  into 


Memories   over  the  Water,  281 

the  ocean  like  a  searcher  after  truth.  ]3ut  alas!  what 
to  him  is  the  "deeply,  darkly,  beautil'ully  blue!" 
What  the  pule  stars  and  the  unwritten  poetry  of  the 
Ideal ! — The  music  of  the  mermaid  or  the  love-incitini;: 
breath  of  the  pure  heaven!  Kothiug!  The  things 
of  yesterday  and  to-day  are  before  his  e3'es — rdics  of 
joy  —  fleeting  and  painful!  It  is  the  highest  bur- 
lesque of  pathos — indeed  in  the  whole  history  of  broken 
hearts  there  is  nothing  so  touching  as  the  languid 
"go  away  now"  of  a  sea-sick  damsel.  It  is  most 
pathetic  —  most  distressing  —  and  perhaps  the  only 
time  when  one  willingly  obej's  the  "  go  away  "  of  a 
pretty  mouth. 

On  rising  the  morning  after  our  departure  from 
Naples  we  went  out  on  deck  and  found  the  bright 
sun  breaking  beautifully  over  the  blue  waves  of  this 
classic  ocean.  The  sea  was  calm  and  still,  and  on 
looking  toward  the  land  we  discovered  we  were  ap- 
proaching the  harbor  of  Civita  Vecchia.  Soon  our 
little  steamer  lay  snugly  anchored ;  but  as  we  did  not 
have  our  passport  visaed  for  this  port  we  were  not 
permitted  to  go  ashore.  By  the  help  of  "  David 
Copperfield,"  letter-writing  and  day-dreaming,  we 
managed  to  wdiile  away  the  long  idle  day.  About 
five  o'clock,  r.  m.,  we  again  slipped  cables,  and  turn- 
ing our  prow  northward,  we  passed,  in  the  silent 
hours  of  midnight,  by  that  famous  isle,  where  France's 
exiled  chieftain  for  a  time  was  caged.  On  the  morn- 
ing following  we  rose  just  as  our  steamer  was  putting 
in  at   the   port  of  Leghorn,  and    fuund  it  cold  and 


282  Memories   over  the  Water. 

raininfr.     But  about  eleven  o'clock  the  shower  was 
over,  and  in  company  with  a  goodly  number  of  our 
fellow-passengers  we  left  the  steamer  and  were  soon 
landed  at  the  wharf.     Jumped  aboard  the  cars  and 
paid  a  flying  visit  to  Pisa.     Crossed  the   Arno  in  a 
cab,  and   visited  the  Cathedral,  the  Baptistery,  the 
Campo  Santo  and  the  famous  Leaning  Tower.     From 
the  top  of  the  Campanile  we  had  a  fine  view  of  the 
Apennines.     Pisa  is  a  small  but  handsome  city,  silent 
and  noiseless  as  the  desert,  while  Leghorn  is  a  busy, 
populous,  thriving   sea-port.     We   returned   in  time 
to  get  aboard  our  boat,  and  at  five  o'clock  w^e  weighed 
anchor  and  again  were  on  our  way  northward,  still 
skirting  along  the  western  coast  of  Italy.     About  one 
o'clock  that  night  we  landed  at  "  Genova  la  Superba." 
On  rising  the  next  morning  we  found  ourself  quietly 
lying  in  a  most  magnificent  harbor,  around  which  the 
city  of  Columbus  stretched  its  promontories  in  a  pro- 
tecting embrace.     A  view  of  the  city  from  the  harbor 
is  picturesque  in  the  extreme.     As  w^e  stepped  ashore 
we  could  but  think  how  much  more  readily  had  we 
crossed    from  the    far-foreign    shores   of  America — 
scoured  over  the  continent  of  Europe  —  and  landed  at 
his  native  city,  than  had  the  discoverer  of  the  New 
World  reached    his  daring  flight,  in    his  frail  bark, 
across  the  watery  waste  of  the  trackless  deep.     The 
day  was  cool,  and  bracing,  and  beautifully  fair ;  the 
sea  as  calm  as  beauty's  sleep,  and  the  mountains  that 
rise   abruptly  up  froijf  the  water's  edge  seemed  the 
guardians  of  its  slumbers,     AVe  spent  the  greater  part 


Memories  over  the  Water.  283 

of  that  day  in  scrambling  over  the  lofty  hills,  in  rear 
of  the  city,  drinking  in  the  health -giving  air,  and  en- 
joying many  glorious  views,  over  the  mountain  and 
over  the  valley,  over  the  city  and  over  the  sea.  Still 
upward  would  we  climb,  and  following  round  the 
long  line  of  frowning  forts  and  cannon-moimtcd  walls, 
the  silence  broken  only  by  the  song  of  the  peasant 
girl,  as  she  hied  from  the  city  to  her  cottage-home 
in  the  opposite  valley,  or  by  the  lonely  tread  of  the 
solitary  sentinel  pacing  his  hourly  round  —  we  de- 
scended again  into  the  walled  town.  On  our  way 
down  we  passed  by  what  we  thought  the  house  of 
Columbus,  from  observing  on  its  walls  a  fresco  repre- 
senting a  mailed  figure  pointing  down  at  a  globe  at 
his  feet,  whereon  were  traced  the  name  and  continent 
of  America. 

The  streets  of  Genoa  are  very  narrow,  and  abound 
in  donkeys,  fruit  and  women.  The  palaces  in  the 
Strada  Nuova  are  superb.  They  seem  formed  to 
laugh  at  time.  What  a  glorious  place  Genoa  must 
have  been  in  the  days  of  its  pride !  when  all  this 
silent  and  decaying  splendor  had  a  soul — when  tlie 
princely  Dorias  ruled  over  land  and  sea,  and  the  light 
of  incessant  reveliy  flashed  along  these  marble  walls. 
But  now  the  remnants  of  her  proud  nobility,  the  in- 
mates of  her  lofty  palaces,  too  poor  to  light  their  fes- 
tive fires,  are  content  to  sport  the  relics  of  their  splen- 
dor in  i\\Q  foyer  of  a  theater,  and  like  true  pliiloso- 
phers,  waltz  and  laugh  as  joyously  as  though  their 
ancestral  halls  were  still  the   scene  of  their  gayety. 


284  Memories  over  the  Water. 

The  women  are  not  pretty,  but  their  costume  is  capti- 
vating in  the  extreme.  Tliey  wear  a  thin  white  vail, 
thrown  loosely  over  tlie  head,  which  falls  gracefully 
back,  saucily  dancing  as  they  walk.  They  look  veiy 
picturesque,  especially  when  kneeling  in  the  dim  light 
of  the  cathedral.  The  churches  give  evidence  of  the 
former  wealth  and  superstition  of  Roman  Catholi- 
cism. To  the  bare  walls  and  Gothic  chastity  of 
the  North  succeed  the  rich  ornament,  the  luxurious 
profusion  of  the  South.  Spiritual  influence  stands 
embodied  in  all  its  pomp.  Shrines  of  untold  cost — 
pillars  of  the  rarest  stone —  walls  encased  in  marble — 
gilt  altars  and  frescoed  ceilings  —  all  attest  the  enthu- 
siasm of  devotion,  the  influence  of  priestly  power, 
and  Papal  veneration.  Step  into  the  Cathedral  at 
what  hour  you  will,  some  penitent  is  kneeling  —  some 
mass  is  saying  —  some  vesper  pealing.  Turn  to  the 
other  chapels  on  your  route,  the  same  scene  presents 
itself:  one  crowd  of  devotees  follows  another  in  suc- 
cessive prayer,  and  were  it  not  for  the  wicked  glance 
of  some  frail  worshiper,  as  she  tells  her  rosary,  one 
would  suppose  the  Italian  world  thought  but  of 
Heaven.  Breathed  but  comprehended  not  is  their 
fervent  orison,  and  the  moral  light  of  the  Godhead 
streams  as  dimly  on  their  vision  as  the  dying  rays 
of  the  sun  struggling  through  the  stained  glass,  and 
falling  faintly  on  the  deep  fret- work,  the  faded  paint- 
ings and  hidden  sculpture  of  their  solemn  cathedral. 
Yet  there  is  a  winning  beauty,  a  breathing  poesy  in 
the  Roman  religion  that  will  enchant  her  votaries  for 


AI EMORIES    OVEIi    THE    WaTEU.  285 

ages  to  come.  Tliruugli  the  avenues  of  the  senses 
she  wins  her  way  ;  while  the  Protestant  mother  leads 
her  children  along  the  rugged  paths  of  reason.  But 
in  the  realms  of  intellect,  and  not  of  outward  sense, 
should  the  mind  worship  its  Creator,  The  spirit  of 
devotion  should  seek  an  humble,  yet  a  lofty  flight. 
The  human  mind  must  be  disabused  of  the  trammels 
of  ignorance  and  superstition.  The  infallibility  of 
God  alone  must  be  recognized,  and  that  worship,  to 
which  presumptuous  man  has  oft  aspired,  be  rendered 
only  to  the  Iligh  Jehovah .  Yet  it  were  hardly  mor- 
tal for  the  heir  to  the  Throne  of  St.  Peter  willingly 
to  part  with  his  patrimony.  The  ambition  of  the 
Pontiflf  would  rather  die,  like  a  warrior,  sword  in 
hand,  than  surrender  that  tiara  before  which  king  and 
emperor  have  bowed  and  were  subservient ;  to  sink 
from  his  high  pinnacle,  and  forego  forever  the  dazzling 
hope  of  former  power. 


CHAPTER    XLII. 

We  left  Genoa  on  the  evening  of  the  2cl  of  Decem- 
ber, and  arrived  at  Marseilles  early  on  the  following 
morning.  After  getting  clear  of  the  clever  little 
steamer  "  Capri,"  we  went  ashore  and  put  np  at  the 
"Hotel  des  Emperenrs."  As  we  passed  along  the 
busy  streets  we  observed  that  some  intense  excitement 
was  manifest  on  the  faces  of  the  citizens,  and  on 
inquiring  into  the  cause,  we  learned  that  news  had 
just  been  received  by  telegraph,  from  Paris,  an- 
nouncing that  Louis  Napoleon,  the  Prince  President, 
dissenting  with  the  National  Assembly,  had  suddenly 
turned  that  body  politic  neck  and  heels  out  of  Coun- 
cil, and  had  appealed  to  the  people  to  support  him  in 
the  proceeding.  This  was  of  course  productive  of  a 
most  startling  effect  throughout  the  whole  of  France, 
and  in  Marseilles  the  authorities  seemed  apprehensive 
of  a  general  riot.  To  suppress  any  such  demonstra- 
tion the  entire  garrison  was  called  out,  and  a  large 
detachment  of  soldiers,  horse,  foot  and  artillery,  lined 
the  broad  and  handsome  street,  on  which  our  hotel 
was  situated.  The  people  seemed  highly  incensed, 
and  though  they  dared  not,  under  the  frown  of  fifty 

cannon,  openly  rebuke  this  high-handed  movement, 
( 286  ) 


Memories  over  the  "Water.  287 

yet  tliey  marched  about  thu  streets  wavinj^  their  hats 
and  shouting  Vive  la  Repiiblique!  We  thought,  as 
we  looked  from  our  hotel  window  upon  the  frantic 
crowd,  upon  the  days  of  the  Jacobins  and  of  tlic 
Marseilles  Hymn. 

But  we  were  anxious  to  reach  Paris,  which  we 
thought  would  soon  prove  the  theater  of  a  bloody 
revolution,  and  so  at  half-past  three  o'clock,  r.  m., 
took  our  seat  in  the  Diligence,  and  started  for  tlic 
railway  station.  Ilerc  the  body  of  the  Diligence, 
passengers,  baggage  and  all,  was  lifted,  by  means  of 
machinery  arranged  for  tlic  purpose,  from  off  the 
wheels  and  deposited  on  an  empty  wagon  of  the  train. 
At  four  o'clock  we  were  on  the  move,  and  about  ten 
o'clock  that  night  reached  that  old  seat  of  revelry, 
Avignon,  on  the  Rhone.  Here,  without  a  moment's 
pause,  we  were  again  lifted,  in  a  similar  manner  as 
before,  from  off  the  train,  and  placed  again  on  wheels, 
whose  motive  power  was  horse-flesh.  Our  tough 
coursers  are  immediately  attached,  and  away  we 
rattle,  with  a  clatter,  a  jolt  and  a  thump,  following 
up  the  left  bank  of  the  "arro^vy  Rhone"  toward 
the  city  of  Lyons.  And  now  our  sufferings.  All 
that  long,  weary  night,  we  traveled  on,  driving  too, 
like  Jehu,  the  infernal  old  Diligence  keeping  up 
just  such  a  din  as  would  a  wagon  loaded  with 
long  iron  bars  over  a  rough  road  —  rattle,  rattle, 
rattle — until  we  thought  our  tympanum  would  give 
way.  Only  one  incident  served  to  break  the  weari- 
some  monotonv,   and    shed   some    amusement   over 


288  Memories  over  the  Water. 

the  tedious  hours.  At  Yalence  we  stopped  for 
dinner,  and  on  resuming  our  seats  found  that  we 
democrats  of  the  Rotonde  had  an  additional  com- 
panion— a  fat,  chuffy,  bull-headed  specimen  of  a  frog- 
eater — who  sat  just  opposite  and  facing  Mrs.  B . 

During  the  night  we  were  suddenly  roused  from  our 
dozing  by  a  terrific  hubbub  in  our  apartment  of  the 
Diligence.  On  rubbing  our  eyes  and  collecting  our 
scattered  senses,  we  saw  by  the  light  of  the  waning 

moon  Mr.  B cuffing  the  Frenchman  over  the  head 

with  might  and  main,  while  Mrs.  B made  night 

vocal  with  her  screams.  It  seems  the  garlic-eating 
Gaul  had,  under  the  cover  of  darkness,  been  taking 
improper  liberties  with  the  American  lady,  and  to 
which  she  had  called  the  attention  of  her  husband, 

who  sat  just  by  her  side.     Mr.  B waited  to  see 

the  movement  of  the  fellow  repeated,  and  thereby 
assuring  himself  he  could  not  be  mistaken,  had,  with- 
out one  word  of  warning,  fired  away  at  the  French- 
man's head  with  all  the  force  of  his  arm.  The  blow, 
coming  thus  unexpectedly  upon  the  licentious  rascal, 
put  a  most  abrupt  termination  to  his  soft  dalliance, 
and  so  discomfited  him  that,  without  the  least  pre- 
tension to  any  hostile  demonstration,  he  only  sought 
to  avoid  the  rapid  blows  of  his  assailant,  which  now 
came  showering  about  his  ears  like  a  hailstorm. 
The  harmony  of  the  scene  was  beautifully  diversified 
by  the  protestations  of — '•'•Doucement^  Doucement^ 
Monsieur^''  on  the  part  of  the  Frenchman;  "You 
d — n  villain,  d — n  villain,"  with  each  blow  of  the 


Memories  over  the  Water.  2S9 

rabid    American  ;    and    the   shrill   screams   of   ^Irs. 

B .     But  not  content  with  hammering  away  with 

his  fist,  the  fiery  little  New  Yorker  had  braced  him- 
self against  the  side  of  the  Diligence,  and  calling  his 
heels  into  seryice,  was  letting  them  fly  into  the 
Frenchman's  "belly  with  a  perfect  looseness  of  limb 
and  desperation  of  purpose.  At  last,  however,  he 
became  satisfied  ;  while  Monsieur,  all  the  time,  M^as 
protesting  most  lustily  at  being  thus  maltreated.  It 
was,  forsooth,  a  scene  so  confoundedly  ridiculous  that 
we  laughed  until  the  tears  started  to  our  eyes.  The 
next  morning  the  battered  champion  of  gallantry  pre- 
tended to  be  exceeding  drowsy,  kept  his  bruised  face 
concealed  under  the  folds  of  his  cloak,  and  at  the  first 
village  made  his  disappearance,  having  learned  a 
most  practical  lesson  as  to  the  difierence  between  an 
American  wife  and  a  French  grisettc. 

But  again  to  our  route.  "With  what  rapidity  French 
postillions  change  horses !  A  curse,  a  kick,  a  crack 
of  the  whip,  and  all  is  over.  One  has  scarcely  time 
to  poise  a  flask  of  wine  upon  the  lips  before  the  huge 
machine  is  again  in  motion.  It  would  be  rather 
amusing  to  see  a  Diligence  break  into  an  American 
village  !  It  would  create  a  greater  sensation  than  a 
menagerie.  The  postillion's  boots  would  be  the  first 
point  of  attack  for  the  young  democracy ;  his  short- 
tailed  coat  the  next ;  and  should  he  unfortunately  be 
undersized,  so  as  to  make  the  mass  of  leather  about 
his  posterior  show  to  advantage,  there  is  no  telling 

what  might  be  the  consequence.     What  a  laugh  the 
24^ 


290  Memories   oyer  the  Water. 

boisterous  stage-driver  would  raise,  as  lie  criticised 
the  dimensions,  the  singular  internal  arrangement, 
and  the  terrible  weight  of  the  mammoth  vehicle,  pro- 
phesying death  to  any  team  that  might  be  hitched  to 
that  car  of  Juggernaut !  What  a  contemptuous  sneer 
would  our  four-in-hand  Jehues  indulge  in,  as  they 
looked  upon  the  postillions  mounted  on  the  backs 
of  the  team  !  Some  Brummel  of  a  saddler  might 
pronounce  an  emphatic  "d — n,"  as  he  looked  upon 
the  gear,  and  ironically  inquire  —  "Say,  Johnson, 
where  did  you  get  your  harness  ? " 

At  any  rate  we  found  our  lumbering  old  machine  a 
perfect  purgatory.  Fatigue  gives  way  to  impatience, 
impatience  to  desperation,  and  desperation  to  illness. 
Between  the  cold  air  and  the  infernal  racket  we  were 
now  chilled  into  teeth-chattering,  and  now  burning 
with  fever.  Thursday,  December  4th,  1851,  "we 
mark  with  a  hlach  stone"  on  the  calendar  of  our 
days.  All  that  day  we  went  jolting  on.  Not  even 
the  smile  of  a  bright  eye  at  the  village  inn,  nor  a 
tempting  dejeuner  a  la  fourchette  could  appease  us. 
At  last  about  ten  o'clock  on  the  succeeding  night  we 
reached  the  city  of  Lyons,  and  as  we  stepped  out  of 
tlie  miserable  old  Diligence,  which  for  some  thirty-six 
consecutive  hours  had  been  a  rack  of  torture  to  our 
feverish  frame,  we  mentally  vowed  that  not  a  forty 
horse-power  could  ever  force  us  into  another,  if  there 
was  one  earthly  chance  of  traveling  by  any  other 
conveyance.  But  getting  into  a  cab  we  drove  to 
"  Hotel  du  Nord,"  and  having  ordered  a  fire  in  our 


Memories  over  the  Water.  291 

room  went  straii^htway  to  bed.  The  next  morning 
we  felt  badly  enough.  Got  up  though,  drank  a  cup 
of  tea,  and  went  immediately  to  bed  again.  Suffice 
it  to  say,  that  for  three  days  we  were  confined  in  our 
room  with  a  raging  fever.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brady  were 
to  have  gone  immediately  on  to  Paris.  But  on  seeing 
our  condition  Mrs.  Brady,  with  woman's  true  instinct, 
informed  lier  husband  that  he  must  remain  over  a  few 
days;  to  which  he  kindly  consenting,  she  set  dili- 
gently to  work  to  break  our  fever.  Without  suffering 
us  to  send  for  a  physician,  she  hovered  like  some 
ministering  angel  about  our  pillow,  supplying  our 
wants  with  the  care  and  tenderness  of  a  sister. 
Without  one  claim  upon  her  consideration,  saving  the 
fact  of  our  being  sick  and  a  stranger  in  the  land,  she 
was  to  us  the  good  Samaritan.  The  reflection  that  a 
countryman  of  her  own  —  between  whom  and  his 
home  lay  many  a  weary  mile,  rolled  many  a  restless 
billow — was  ill,  was  of  itself  sufficient  to  enlist  her 
warmest  sympathies.  But  her  heart  M-as  most  gentle, 
most  kindly  in  its  nature.  We  have  known  her  on 
ship-board,  when  some  rebellious  sailor  had  trans- 
gressed the  commands  of  his  officer,  and,  as  a  penalty 
for  tlie  ofi'ense,  lay  in  his  cold  quarters  in  irons,  and 
without  food,  to  seek  the  rough  officer,  and  implore 
for  her  sake  his  release.  When  the  grateful  memory 
of  her  kindness  to  us  shall  fade,  may  we  have  no 
gentle  hand  about  our  pillow  to  charm  the  weary 
hours  of  illness  into  halcyon  moments.  Enough  to 
say,  that  under  tlie  caro  of  an  owrrnling  Providencj, 


292  Memoeies  over  the  Watkk. 

and  with  the  kind  and  skillful  nursing  of  our  new 
made  friend,  we  started  again  for  Paris  on  the  7th, 
taking  a  steamboat  up  the  Soane  to  Chalons.  From 
that  day  we  parted  not  company  until  together  we 
landed  at  the  of  New  York. 

As  we  drove  through  the  streets  of  Lyons  in  the 
early  hours  of  morning,  from  the  hotel  to  the  steamer, 
we  observed  here  a  picket  of  dragoons,  their  horses 
equipped  and  standing  in  line,  ready  for  service  at  a 
moment's  warning ;  there  a  group  of  infantry,  sitting 
round  their  camp-fires,  their  arms  stacked  hard-by, 
and    the   flickering   light    flashing    in    their   rough, 
bearded  faces,  and  dancing  over  their  red  uniforms. 
On  reaching  the  boat,  we  descended  into  her  cabin, 
where  we  were  soon  visited  by  a  couple  of  officers, 
who  requested  the  privilege  of  looking  at  our  pass- 
ports.    In  scanning  over  the   group   of  passengers 
there  assembled,  we  were  agreeably  surprised  again 
to  greet  the  bright  eyes  of  the  "  Russian  Bride."    We 
subsequently  met  her  on  the  "  Champs  Elysees"  of 
Paris.     Our  little  steamer  was  warm  and  comfortable, 
but  most  curiously  constructed.     Its  length  from  stem 
to  stern  was  immense,  while  the  breadth  of  beam  was 
only  a  few  rods.     It  resembled  in  fact  a  long,  keen 
arrow,  and  plowed  the  current  of  the  stream  most 
beautifully.     The  Soane  has  many  cities,  towns  and 
villages  along  its  banks,  and  is  spanned  by  suspen- 
sion bridges  innumerable.     It  was  at  this  time  full  in 
its  banks,  and   perfectly  alive  with   other   steamers 
plying  on  its  bosom,  and  all  built  after  the  singular 


Memories    ovkr  tiik  Watkr.  293 

fashion  of  cm-  own.  AVc  reached  Chalons  aljoiit 
noon,  and  immediately  took  the  express  train  fur 
Paris,  About  ten  o'clock  that  nii,dit  wc  were  de- 
posited at  our  destination,  and  though  wc  had  heard 
the  city  gates  were  closed  against  strangers,  we  found 
no  difficulty  in  obtaining  entrance.  Taking  a  cab  we 
proceeded  to  the  "Hotel  du  Paris,"  along  the  lamp- 
lighted  streets  of  the  gay  capital,  which  only  a  few 
days  past  witnessed  the  bloody  and  singularly  suc- 
cessful coiq)  (Vetat  of  Louis  Napoleon,  then  the  Prince 
President,  now  the  self-elected  Emperor  of  France. 


CHAPTER    XLIII 


We  left  Paris  on  the  30th  of  August,  and  returned 
again  December  the  7th,  having  in  the  meanwhile  tra- 
versed France,  Switzerland,  Germany,  and  Italy.  We 
left  the  laughter-loving  city,  all  quietude  and  peace, 
and  found  on  our  return  a  most  rigid  military  sur- 
veillance prevailing,  the  mouths  of  the  citizens  locked 
from  fear  of  arrest,  and  the  doctrine  that  "might  is 
right"  most  practically  proclaimed.  Louis  jVapoleon 
had,  with  an  armed  force,  expelled  the  members  of  the 
National  Assembly,  suffering  the  more  timid  and 
inoffensive  to  go  at  large,  but  placing  the  bolder 
spirits  of  that  body  under  arrest.  A  bloody  emcute 
had  succeeded  this  expulsion,  provoked  by  the  indig- 
nant members  of  the  Senate.  It  was  soon  quelled, 
but  with  the  loss  of  some  five  hundred  ouvriers. 
They  fought  behind  barricades,  which  were  either 
blown  down  by  the  artillery,  or  stormed  by  the  lancers. 
Many  of  the  soldiers  were  killed  by  shots  fired  from 
the  windows  of  the  Boulevards,  while  their  com- 
rades in  turn  peppered  the  houses  right  and  left  with 
their  bullets.  The  struggle  was  a  brief  one  only;  and 
Louis  Napoleon  soon  had  his  heel  upon  the  neck  of 
the  Empire.     Put  at  the  time  of  our  arrival  the  city 

'  204  ) 


Memories    over  the  Water.  295 

was  still  in  a  state  ot"  great  excitement,  and  in  mo- 
mentary expectation  of  again  seeing  the  streets  run 
blood.  The  Prince  President  had  shown  an  undis- 
puted courage,  an  unflinching  firmness,  and  a  singu- 
lar foresight  in  his  every  movement.  He  had  made 
his  great  uncle  the  guiding-star  of  his  action,  and  no 
sooner  were  his  designs  conceived  than  triumphantly 
carried  out.  lie  had  successively  issued  appeals  to 
the  army  and  to  the  people,  and  appointed  the  21st  of 
December  a  day  for  the  exercise  of  universal  suffrage 
on  his  conduct,  whether  approved  of  or  condemned  by 
the  French  nation  at  large.  "With  this  seeming  show 
of  honesty  of  purpose  —  this  apparent  disposition  to 
abide  by  the  decision  of  the  people  —  combined  with 
his  gallant  daring  and  the  jprestige  of  a  glorious 
name,  he  had  won  upon  the  admiration  of  the  French, 
and  so  encircled  himself  with  the  dazzling  eclat  of  his 
achievements,  that  the  entire  nation  stood  stupefied 
and  bewildered,  while  he  rode  on  in  proud  defiance  to 
secure  his  now  precarious  footing.  He  had  adopted 
the  plan  best  calculated  to  exalt  him  in  the  estimation 
of  the  French.  They  have  no  mercy  for  awkward- 
ness, either  in  manner  or  in  murder.  Do  a  thing 
gallantly,  bravely,  completely,  and  all  the  atrocity  of 
the  action  will  be  lost  and  forgotten  in  the  glory  of 
successfully  achieving  your  purpose.  It  seems  to  be 
one  of  their  greatest  characteristics  to  get  up  an  idol 
for  themselves  in  the  person  of  some  man  whom  they 
imagine  vastly  superior  to  anybody  else.  They  have, 
too,  an   exceeding  fondness   for  outward  formula,  a 


296  Memories  ovicr  the  Water. 

reverence  for  a  certain  finish  of  procedure,  and  an 
intense  passion  for  the  denouement.  Some  spicy  and 
observant  writer  lias  said  that — "If  a  Frenchman 
should  accidentally  stab  his  father  with  a  table-knife, 
his  greatest  regret  would  be,  that  it  was  not  a 
poniard." 

On  reaching  Paris  we  learned,  with  much  regret, 
that  an  old  traveling  companion  —  Lieutenant  Jones, 
of  the  United  States'  navy  —  had  been  shot  down 
during  the  late  bloody  emeute,  enacted  on  the  Boule- 
vards. He  was  our  companion  in  a  very  amusing 
adventure  on  the  Rialto  at  Venice,  and  little  thought, 
while  skipping  so  spryly  over  the  Piazza  San  Marco, 
of  the  sad  fate  which  awaited  him.  So  soon  as  we 
could  discover  his  address  we  called  and  found  him 
in  a  very  crippled  condition.  He  informed  us  that  he 
had  gone  out  to  witness  the  excitement,  but  never 
for  an  instant  dreaming  that  there  was  danger  in 
w^alking  the  streets.  He  was  standing  in  a  crowd  of 
citizens  —  men,  women  and  children  —  looking  on  at 
the  evolutions  of  the  military  on  the  Boulevards ;  a 
shot  was  fired  from  a  window  among  the  soldiers, 
when  they  turned  and  deliberately  poured  a  volley 
into  the  mass  of  people  before  them.  Our  friend  was 
among  tlio  first  that  fell,  his  left  leg  badly  shattered 
by  a  ball,  and  the  fore-finger  of  his  left  hand-shot 
entirely  away.  The  assembled  multitude  of  course 
dispersed  with  headlong  speed,  while  the  killed  and 
the  wounded  lay  neglected  in  the  street  till  the  close 
of  day.     Our  friend  was  then  taken  up,  among  the 


Mkm(jkiks  ovek  the  Wateu.  297 

rest,  and  carried  to  the  military  hospital,  and  thence 

removed,  by  his  request,  to  his  lodf^ings  on  line  St. 

Honorc.    It  was  at  first  thought  it  would  be  necessary 

to  amputate  his  leg ;  but  he  determined  on  saving  it, 

at  the  risk  of  his  life.     When  we  left  Paris,  at  the 

beginning  of  the  following  spring,  he  was  still  lying 

in  a  precarious  situation.     The  poor  fellow  had  never 

been  enabled,  for  several  months,  even  to  change  his 

position  in  bed. 

Our  first  care  on  returning  to  Paris — after  our  long 

ramble  through  Switzerland,  Germany,  and  Italy  — 

was  to  secure  a  pleasant  local  habitation.     This  we 

managed  to  do   at  No.  5  Rue  du   Dauphin.     Our 

apartments  were  situated  in  one  of  the  most  agreeable 

portions  of  the  city,  within  a  few  steps  of  the  Tuil- 

leries  Gardens   and   Palace,  and  convenient   to  the 

Louvre,  the   Champs   Elysees,  the   Boulevards,  the 

Tiieaters,  the  Opera  Houses,  and  the  Ball  Rooms. 

On  an  afternoon  we  would  generally  sally  forth,  and 

turning  in  at  the  Tuilleries  Gardens,  stroll  down  their 

entire  length  ;  then,  crossing  the  magnificent  Place  de 

la  Concorde,  loiter  along  up  the  Champs  Elysees  as 

far  as  the  Triumphal  Arch  at  the  barriere  de  I'Etoile. 

Here  one  may  see  the  hewu  and  the  mauvais  monde 

of  Paris  turn  out  in  all  their  glory  for  an  afternoon 

promenade — some  on  foot,  some  on  horseback,  some 

driving  tandems,  and  some  lolling  lazily  in  their  lux- 

iirious  coaches.     There  goes  the  coxcomb,  twirling 

his  delicate  white   cane  with   soft  hand  encased  in 

Alexander  gloves,  his  attenuated  nether  limbs  impri- 
25 


298  Memories   ovek  the  Water. 

soned  in  pants  which  fit  as  thongh  he  had  been  melted 
and  poured  in,  his  shining  beaver  sitting  jauntily  on 
one  side  of  his  head,  and  his  glib  tongue  discoursing 
on  the  merits  of  the  last  opera.  There  move  grace- 
fully along  a  pair  of  beauteous  ladies,  lifting  their 
white  skirts  over  the  dry  pavement,  and  just  high 
enough  to  show  the  prettiest  ankle  and  neatest  bootee 
in  the  world.  The  sweetest  smile  imaginable  is 
playing  over  their  cheeks,  w^iich  blush  under  the 
tints  of  the  magic  rouge,  yet  blushing  and  bewitching 
nevertheless.  Here  sits  some  old  beldam,  grinding 
away  on  her  hand-organ,  while  her  little  dog,  dressed 
up  in  red  jacket  and  pants,  sits  piteously  upon  his 
hind-legs,  and  with  a  small  cup  in  his  mouth  invites 
you  to  deposit.  A  little  higher  up,  where  the  crowd 
is  not  so  dense,  you  may  see  some  mendicant  fellow, 
with  a  whole  regiment  of  dogs  that  perform  all  man- 
ner of  capers  under  his  instruction.  A  crowd  always 
gathers  here,  and  the  dog-trainer  reaps  a  rich  harvest 
of  sous.  Out  there  under  the  trees  you  find  Punch 
and  Judy  ever  engaged  in  their  domestic  tragedies. 
A  few  rods  beyond  is  an  auctioneer  of  cosmetics, 
warranted  to  render  the  worst  complexion  surpassing 
fair.  The  voluble  vender  of  the  "saponaceous  com- 
pound" is  an  orator  of  the  first  stamp.  Hear  his 
invitation  — "  Venez !  venez !  Messieurs  1  Ici,  ici ! 
chose  extraordinaire ! "  You  approach  his  stand ; 
when  immediately  you  are  honored  with  an  especial 
notice.  "  Pardon,  Messieurs.  Place  pour  Monsieur ; 
par  ici — pardon — non — par  la !  bien !  voila,  Monsieur." 


Memories   ovek  the  Wateu.  299 

And  he  ofiers  a  small  box  for  your  inspection,  at  the 
same  time  dcscantini;  most  eloquently  on  its  virtues, 
and  concluding  with  —  "Pour  deux  francs;  deux 
Irancs  seulement !  "  Of  course  this  gentleman  is 
extensively  patronized  by  the  beauty-cultivating  Pa- 
risians ;  and  many  a  credulous  victim  hands  up  his 
two  francs,  and  pockets  the  object  of  his  purchase 
with  such  a  smile  of  intense  satisfaction  that  you 
might  imagine  he  had  in  his  fancy  already  become  a 
Hyperion.  Farther  out  among  the  trees  you  may  see 
whole  troops  of  tidily  dressed  children,  attended  by 
their  nurses,  who  indulge  them  in  a  ride  upon  the 
flying-horses,  or  a  sail  in  one  of  the  many  boats  sus- 
pended in  the  air,  and  made  to  imitate  the  rocking  of 
a  vessel. 

Such  are  some  of  the  "tableaux  vivants"  that 
attract  the  stranger's  eye,  as  he  takes  his  afternoon 
stroll  up  the  Champs  Elysees.  Everybody  seems 
amused — seems  contented  and  happy — though  at 
the  same  time  the  professed  President  of  the  so-called 
Republic  is  exercising,  unopposed,  the  power  of  an 
absolute  monarch ;  trampling  the  Constitution  of  a 
nation  under  foot ;  violating,  with  perfect  impunity, 
his  solemn  oath ;  subverting  the  liberties  of  the 
people  and  the  press ;  imprisoning  and  liberating 
citizens  at  his  pleasure ;  and  in  fine  riding  rough-shod 
right  onward  for  the  crown  that  now  glitters  before 
his  eyes.  Enough,  indeed,  to  make  the  blood  of  a 
free-born  American  boil  with  indignation,  though 
only  a  stranger  in  tlie  land.     As  you  move  along — 


300  Memories   oyer  the  Water. 

musing,  perhaps,  on  the  vast  difference  in  the  govern- 
ment of  nations,  contrasting  the  state  of  your  own 
with  that  of  the  purple  land  —  a  small  carriage  dashes 
rapidly  down  the  broad  avenue.  It  is  flanked  on 
either  side,  followed  and  preceded  by  a  troop  of  dra- 
goons, and  in  it  sits  the  usurper,  Louis  Napoleon. 
His  approach  is  heralded  by  no  shout  of  "Yive 
Napoleon,"  "Yive  I'Empereur;"  but  the  idle  crowd, 
ouvrier,  and  prince,  suffer  him  to  pass  on  in  silence. 
In  a  few  days  the  free  vote  of  the  people  is  taken  on 
the  conduct  of  the  President.  Everything  is  con- 
ducted under  the  eye  of  the  modem  Cromwell,  and 
of  course  the  majority  approving  his  course  is  over- 
whelming. They  have  no  confidence  in,  no  love  for, 
the  man ;  yet  they  support  him,  simply  in  fact, 
because  they  can  do  no  better.  Step  by  step  he 
marches  onward,  and  finally  mounts  the  throne  of 
France.  And  still  he  is  unopposed ;  because,  weary 
of  fruitless  revolutions,  the  people  crave  peace — no 
matter  w'hether  it  be  monarchical  or  republican — that 
their  private  interests  may  go  on  and  prosper. 


CHAPTER    XLIV. 


December  the  lOtli  we  paid  a  visit  to  "Pere  La 
Chaise  "  — the  famous  burying-ground  of  Paris.  We 
caught  aa  omnibus  just  at  the  church  of  St,  Pooh, 
and  by  means  of  the  corresponding  lines  were  con- 
veyed to  the  very  gate  of  the  cemetery.  We  there 
employed  a  guide,  who  piloted  us  through  this  beau- 
tiful resting-place  of  the  dead,  and  pointed  out  the 
graves  of  the  most  distinguished  characters.  Many 
of  the  Marshals  of  France  have  found  a  resting-place 
here  —  among  them  may  be  seen  the  grave  of  the 
gallant  Ney ;  but  it  has  no  monumental  marble  about 
it — not  a  slab  nor  a  stone  to  mark  the  spot  where 
the  "bravest  of  the  brave"  reposes.  The  space  is 
simply  inclosed  by  an  iron  railing,  while  above  his 
head  droops  the  evergreen  but  mournful  cypress. 
Conspicuous  among  the  countless  tombs  is  the  monu- 
ment erected  over  the  remains  of  Abclard,  the  martyr 
of  love,  and  Heloise,  the  pale-faced  nun.  What 
schoolboy  hath  not  mused  over  the  melancholy  story 
of  their  mutual  love,  until  he  hath  almost  worshiped 
at  the  shrine  of  so  beautiful  an  attachment ;  and  what 
matnrer  manhood,  in  all  the  strong  conviction,  per- 
haps the  bitterness  of  his  skepticism,  might  not  drop 

''301)    ■ 


302  Memories  over  the  "Water. 

a  tear  above  their  heads.  As  the  sun  was  about 
sinking  in  the  west  we  took  our  departure,  and  re- 
turned homeward  by  way  of  the  Boulevards  —  that 
gay  thoroughfare  so  prolific  in  objects  of  interest  to 
the  seekers  of  pleasure  or  the  students  of  history. 
Beginning  at  the  Place  Bastille  you  proceed  from  the 
Boulevard  du  Temple,  where  blouses  and  enormous 
beards  abound,  down  to  the  Boulevard  des  Capucines, 
where  yellow  kids  and  patent  leather  predominate. 
The  Boulevards  are  in  fact  a  regular  graduation 
from  the  hard-working,  revolutionary  classes,  to  the 
pomatumed,  perfumed  and  brocaded  froth  of  society. 
Next  to  the  Boulevard  du  Temple,  or  the  Boulevard 
de  Crime,  as  it  has  been  historically  called,  succeed 
the  Boulevards,  St.  Martin,  St.  Denis  and  Poissonnier, 
with  their  coquettish  grisettes  and  dandy  dry-goods 
shopmen.  Then  come  the  Boulevards  des  Italiens 
and  des  Capucines — the  microcosm  of  brilliant, 
gilded  Paris,  exhibiting  all  the  fashion  of  coat  and 
pantaloons,  of  bonnets,  bootees  and  braces  that  the  city 
contains.  The  motion  of  these  pretty  bootees  might 
be  called  a  sort  of  a  prose  polka,  so  graceful  and  easy, 
so  elastic  and  magnetic  is  the  musical  tapping  of  the 
high-heeled  gaiters.  But  if  in  a  historical  mood  the 
omnibus  driver  may  point  you  out  the  street  where 
Mirabeau  died,  the  house  where  Richelieu  made 
love,  and  the  building  in  which  Lafitte  hatched  the 
revolution  of  1830;  the  hell  of  Frascati;  the  garden 
of  Bcaumarchais,  and  the  triumphal  arches  of  the 
Portes  St.  Denis  and  St.  Martin.     By  the  time  you 


Memories   over  the  Water.  303 

have  reached  the  Church  of  the  Madeleiue,  with  its 
lofty  iluted  columns,  commenced  by  Napoleon,  and 
by  him  called  the  Temple  of  Fame,  the  gas  is  lighted, 
and  the  entire  length  of  the  Boulevards  is  one  brilliant 
illumination,  as  busy  with  its  thousands  of  pedestrians 
as  in  the  broad  blaze  of  day.  You  may  now  turn  in 
at  the  restaurant  of  the  "  Trois  Freres,"  and  dine  in 
just  whatever  manner  you  may  see  fit.  This  much 
accomplished  you  leave  the  mirror-cased  walls  of  this 
fashionable  resort,  and  repair  to  the  Theatre  Francaise, 
on  Rue  Richelieu,  not  far  from  the  Palais  Royal,  and 
listen  to  some  of  the  deep  tragedies  of  Rachel.  Per- 
haps you  may  see  her  in  Adrienne,  and  if  so  we  will 
defy  you  to  keep  back  the  tear,  when  she  receives 
again  the  bouquet  of  roses  from  the  Count  de  Saxe, 
and  in  such  sad.  touchiner  and  heart-broken  tones 
murmurs  "  Ma  pauvre  bouquet!  demandee  par  lui! 
donnee  parmoi!"  Iler  accent  is  the  very  echo  of 
bleeding  confidence,  and  the  fondling  of  the  dear 
flowers  in  her  hands  a  mournful  elegy  to  expiring 
love.  Though  she  spoke  not  in  our  native  tongue, 
yet  never  before  nor  since  hath  woman,  on  the  stage, 
so  stirred  the  latent  emotions  of  our  heart. 

On  the  first  of  January,  1852,  Louis  Napoleon 
gave  a  grand  fetc^  which  he  celebrated  in  person  at 
the  time-honored  cathedral  of  Notre  Dame.  The 
church  was  most  royally  fitted  up  for  the  occasion. 
The  soldier}''  and  citizens  of  Paris  turned  out  tn  masse^ 
though  a  close  observer  might  have  detected  the  deep 
under-cnrrent  of  hatred  that  was  running  riot  in  the 


304  Memories   over  the  Water. 

hearts  of  many  against  the  usurper,  yet  the  outward 
show  was  all  in  his  favor.  One  murmur  of  discontent 
was  the  sure  precursor  to  imprisonment,  and  so  what- 
ever opposition  he  may  have  had,  it  was  left  to  rankle 
in  the  heart  of  the  possessor.  We  could  but  conclude, 
as  Louis  Xapoleon  rode  at  the  head  of  his  thousands 
of  troops,  cheered  by  citizen  and  soldier,  that  though 
he  might  reach  the  throne  of  France  in  safety,  he 
could  never  maintain  his  seat.  Change,  political 
change,  seems  the  necessary  aliment  —  the  national 
nourishment  of  the  French  people.  They  bore  then 
the  nephew  of  their  great  chief  in  triumph  to  the  con- 
summation of  his  heart's  desire :  it  may  be  in  a  few 
years  more  the  masses,  beginning  to  crave  some  new 
excitement,  will  rise  up  and  depose  the  present  incum- 
bent of  the  throne  for  some  new  idol.  So  wa2;s  tlie 
world,  and  who  shall  say  nay  1 

But  in  the  meanwhile  Louis  Napoleon  rode  tri- 
umphantly on.  The  French  Republic  was  rapidly 
merging  into  the  French  Empire.  By  order  of  the 
dictator  the  trees  of  liberty  were  all  laid  Ioav  in  the 
dust ;  the  motto  of  the  Eepublic  —  "  Liberte,  Egalitc, 
Fraternite  "  —  erased  from  the  public  buildings  ;  the 
goddess  of  Freedom  on  the  French  coin  supplanted  by 
the  head  of  Napoleon  ;  and  soon  the  daring  President 
had  exchanged  his  democratic  residence  for  the  Palace 
of  the  Tuilleries.  Balls  and  fetes  were  his  policy. 
High  living  to  the  army  insured  their  devotion  to  his 
cause,  and  magnificent  celebrations  so  tickled  the  eye 
of  the   capital,  that  in  their   pomp  and   parade   the 


Memories  over  the  Water.  305 

oLjoct  fur  which  they  were  gotten  up  Avas  all  forgotten. 
From  some,  who  hiul  lost  relatives  and  friends  in  the 
tight  on  the  Boulevards,  went  up  curses  '^nut  loud 
but  deep."  Yet  the  tyrant  was  a  determined  fatal- 
ist—  he  believed  in  his  star,  and  heard  no  foreboding 
omen  in  the  deep  muttering  of  the  discontented,  lie 
thought  it  probable  he  might  be  assassinated,  and 
with  reference  to  that  event  calmly  made  his  will, 
ordaining  that  France,  at  his  death,  should  be  gov- 
erned by  four  of  his  favorite  generals,  whom  he  named. 
Whether  his  last  will  and  testament,  instituting  this 
military  oligarchy,  would  have  been  as  much  respect- 
ed, in  the  event  of  his  decease,  as  his  commands  when 
livino-,  and  with  a  hundred  thousand  armed  men  to 
enforce  them,  might  be  a  matter  of  some  doubt. 

But  from  the  hour  on  which  he  struck  the  first 
bloody  blow  he  had  everything  his  own  w'ay.  Under 
his  bold  dominion  all  things  moved  smoothly  on.  It 
seemed  that  the  very  wheels  of  faith  were  oiled  for  his 
purposes,  so  easily  did  he  accomplish  his  every  design. 
The  most  powerful  men  in  the  empire,  whom  he  had 
the  least  reason  to  deem  hostile  to  his  administration, 
were  banished  the  state.  He  had  trampled  one  con- 
stitution under  foot,  and  now  promulgated  another. 
Its  provisions  were  short  and  concise,  positive  and 
pertinent,  giving  almost  absolute  power  into  the 
hands  of  the  President,  It  was  prefaced  by  a  long 
appeal  to  the  people,  whose  tenor  was  to  inculcate 
implicit  faith  in  his  integrity  and  unhesitating  obedi- 
ence to  his  mandates,     lie  boldly  grasped  the  reins 


30 G  Memokies   ovek  the  Water. 

of  government,  but  to  give  some  show  of  authority 
to  his  daring  assumption,  he  himself  gets  up  a  con- 
stitution, which  gave  the  President  the  power  of  the 
Emperor.  Despite  the  bold  and  uncompromising 
manner  in  which  he  wielded  the  power  he  had  usurp- 
ed, matters  soon  began  to  assume  a  settled  complexion. 
Decree  after  decree  went  forth,  and  whatever  its  pur- 
port, its  mandates  were  unhesitatingly  executed.  The 
estates  of  the  Orleans  Family  were  declared  confis- 
cated, and  when  remonstrated  with,  he  simply  ad- 
duced the  example  set  him  by  the  successors  of 
Napoleon  Bonaparte.  But  he  might  have  been  told 
that  his  uncle,  like  himself,  was  an  interloper,  and 
not  the  lineal  and  legitimate  heir  to  the  throne  ! 

The  foreiijners  at  that  time  in  Faris  were  almost 
unanimously  of  the  opinion,  that  the  fires  of  a  fearful 
revolution  were  slumbering  under  the  pacific  exterior 
of  afiairs,  and  that  any  one,  who  should  quiet  himself 
with  the  thought  that  all  danger  had  passed,  was  only 
sleeping,  in  fancied  security,  on  the  crater  of  the 
troubled  Volcano.  But  the  eruption  is  yet  delayed, 
and  the  calm  seems  likely  to  continue  some  time 
longer,  unless  the  Turko-Eussian  war  give  occasion 
to  the  disaffected  to  vent  their  smothered  wrath. 

On  reviewing  the  course  of  Louis  Napoleon,  sub- 
sequent to  his  expulsion  of  the  members  of  the 
National  Assembly,  we  were  more  and  more  inclined 
to  indulge  a  lenient  opinion  on  his  late  conduct. 
From  our  observation  of  the  French  people  we  had 
become  convinced  that  tlie  time  had  not  yet  arrived 


Memories  over  tlie  Water.  307 

when  a  permanent  Republicau  fonn  of  government 
could  be  instituted  in  France,  When  ruled  with  a 
strong  arm  and  an  iron  rod  she  seemed  as  prosperous 
and  more  contented  than  during  the  brief  life  of  the 
Republic.  Moreover,  by  the  bold  stroke  of  2d  of 
December  Louis  Napoleon  had  at  least  maintained 
order,  and  thereby  preserved  France,  and  possibly 
Europe,  from  a  bloody  revolution.  Yet  as  an  Ameri- 
can, wo  could  but  regret  the  extinction  of  the  French 
Republic.  The  failure  of  that  experiment  tended 
much  to  weaken  the  faith  of  the  world  in  the  efficacy 
of  popular  institutions,  and  greatly  retarded  the  ad- 
vance of  freedom,  of  humanity  and  of  general  intelli- 
gence. Again  America  stood  alone,  the  only  Repub- 
lic amons:  the  nations  of  rank  that  could  command 
the  respect  of  the  world.  May  she  still  live  on  the 
same  glorious  fabric  —  the  great  exemplar  of  truth  in 
the  midst  of  error — the  fair  daughter  of  Freedom 
vailed  in  the  pure  light  of  Republican  principles — 
immutable  as  the  adamant  —  unsullied  as  the  snow 
upon  her  mountain  tops! 


CHAPTER    XLV 


Every  American  who  spends  a  winter  in  Paris 
will,  of  course,  attend  one  of  the  grand  Masked  Balls, 
which  begin  about  the  first  of  January.  They  are 
rich,  rare  and  racy,  quaint,  queer  and  quizzical,  en- 
chanting, wicked  and  brilliant.  Just  imagine  several 
thousand  people  let  loose  at  midnight  in  the  Grand 
Opera  House,  determined  to  dance,  flirt,  shout,  and 
gallop  until  morning,  with  Musard  for  the  presiding 
genius !  Our  first  view  of  the  floor,  as  we  stepped 
inside  the  building,  was  enough  to  induce  the  thought 
of  one  general  rush  to  insanity.  The  dance  was  in 
full  blast,  and  from  the  very  foot  of  the  orchestra  to 
the  balustrade  of  the  boxes  was  one  grand  "cancanic" 
movement.  The  soul  of  every  man  and  woman 
seemed  absorbed  in  the  rioting  vortex,  while  the 
fiddle-bow  of  Musard  described  the  most  fantastic, 
maniac  diagrams  upon  the  frighted  air.  The  upper 
tiers  were  crowded  wdth  dominoes  of  every  descrip- 
tion, and  it  was  almost  impossible  to  thrust  yourself 
through  the  dense  mass  of  intriguants  assembled  in 
the  foyer.  Disguised  voices  and  unknown  pressures 
of  the  hand  greeted  you  from  every  side.  You  step 
down  into  the  parterre  to  get  a  better  look  at  the 

(30H) 


Memoriks  ovek  tiik  Water,  309 

dancers.  You  liavc  scarcely  touched  the  floor  before 
you  are  whizzed  oft"  in  the  embrace  of  some  big  war- 
rior, and  away  goes  the  gallopade,  neck  or  nothing — 
hundreds  before,  hundreds  behind  you  —  they  come 
like  the  Assyrian.  You  are  in  the  very  midst  of  the 
melee.  Your  warrior  urges  you  on,  shouting,  push- 
ing, helter-skelter,  until  all  tumble  headlong  together. 
Then  comes  a  burst  like  a  war-whoop,  and  yon  find 
yourself  about  three  feet  deep  among  the  petticoats. 
Your  hat  is  irretrievably  ruined.  But  in  another 
moment  all  are  upon  their  legs,  and  again  dash  off 
into  the  maddening  excitement. 

"  'T  is  tlie  carnival's  madness, 
When   riot  runs   free. 
And   revel  wins  sadness 
To   share   in   its  glee." 

Amiability  reigns  supreme.  Give  and  take  is  the 
motto.  A  hasty  pardon  is  sufficient  atonement  for 
a  flesh-wound  from  the  spur  of  a  cavalier,  or  having 
your  eye  damaged  by  the  pointed  chapeau  of  some 
military  hero.  The  personation  of  the  devil  is  a 
favorite  character,  and  you  see  his  red  legs  and 
chicken-cock  feather  on  every  occasion.  The  women 
delight  in  playing  the  "gamin" — a  vagabond  sort  of  a 
boy — or  the  Spanish  cavalier,  with  his  slashed  sleeves 
and  velvet  sombrero.  It  is  no  easy  matter  to  detect 
your  most  intimate  acquaintance  in  domino  and  mask. 
The  figure  is  so  completely  concealed,  and  the  eyes 
have  sucli  a  singular  appearance,  peeping  from  behind 


310  Memories   over  the  Water. 

the  pasteboard  bulwarks,  that  they  can  defy  the  closest 
scrntiii}''.  It  is  a  point  of  honor  not  to  attempt  to  raise 
the  small  piece  of  silk  falling  from  the  bottom  of  the 
mask  over  the  mouth  ;  so  you  have  but  few  points  left 
to  identify  your  tormentor.  The  hand  and  foot  may 
sometimes  betray,  but  your  cunning  companion  takes 
good  care  never  to  draw  her  glove  or  allow  you  to  tie 
her  shoe.  After  much  legerdemain  you  may  succeed 
in  stealino;  her  handkerchief.  You  now  feel  like 
Bonaparte  at  Marengo.  You  run  your  eye  over 
every  inch  of  the  cambric ;  but  it  is  as  blank  as  a 
virgin  page  or  a  dandy's  face,  not  even  a  hieroglyphic. 
Your  invention  is  exhausted.  You  arc  without  helm 
or  compass,  and  must  cry  quarter.  You  may  never 
discover  the  incognito,  though  she  speaks  English 
fluently,  and  is  w^ell  acquainted  with  the  history  of 
your  life. 

But  you  return  to  the  parterre,  from  the  foyer,  and 
find  the  dance  still  going  on.  An  innumerable  bevy 
of  damsels,  with  short  velvet  jackets  and  Turkish 
pants  of  white,  striped  at  each  side  with  blue  satin, 
are  whirling  like  so  many  tops  before  your  eyes. 
Every  design  and  caricature  of  fantastic  dress,  a  most 
dazzling  and  brilliantly-illuminated  room,  and  one  of 
the  finest  orchestras  in  the  known  world  are  a  few  of 
the  attractions  of  the  magnificent  display.  The 
measure  of  the  music  is  so  bewitchingly  inviting  that, 
though  you  went  not  for  the  purpose  of  mingling  with 
the  dancers,  your  restive  feet  finally  bear  you  away, 
nolente  volente.    Every  one  vies  with  the  other  in 


Memories   over  the  Watp:r,  311 

cutting;  tlie   most  amazlnt,'  and    oxtravaj^ant  capers. 
Everything  is  one   ceaseless  whirl,  until  you  tiiiuk 
that  all  the  wild  gayety  and  maddening  dissipatitm 
of   Paris  had  concentrated  in  one  focus.     "We  had 
visited    the   Mabille,   the   Chateau   des   Flcurs,    the 
Valentino,  the  balls  at  the  Opera  Comique,  and  the 
Jardin  d'lliver,  but  never  had  we  witnessed  so  varied 
and  so  droll,  so  animated  and  so  dazzling  a  scene  of 
dissipation,  as  the  parterre  of  that  Opera  House  that 
night  presented.     Every  one  had  free  license  to  act 
just   as   they  pleased,  provided   only  there  was   no 
fighting.     This  is  seldom  the  case ;  though  we  have 
seen  a  struggling  grisette  borne  out  of  the  house  on 
the  shoulder  of  some  stoic  gend'arme,  who  had  found 
her  about  to  plunder  some  successful  rival  of  a  pair 
of  eyes.     But  these  scenes  are  very  unusual,  and  the 
greatest  good-will  generally  prevails.     The  dance  is 
carried  on  until  the  gas-lights  begin  to  pale  before  the 
morning  sun.     The  ball  is  over,  and  the  thousands 
of  the  gay  votaries  of  pleasure  depart  — who  knows 
where  % 

We  heard  of  an  amusing  adventure  of  an  American 
youth,  which  occurred  on  his  starting  homeward  from 
one  of  these  balls.  lie  and  his  friend  made  a  slight 
error  in  coming  out  in  the  dark,  and  took  possession 
of  a  private  carriage,  standing  in  front  of  the  Opera, 
mistaking  it  for  a  cab  ;  indeed  the  rain  was  falling  in 
torrents,  and  in  the  darkness  and  hurry  they  took  no 
trouble  to  distinguish  the  diflercnce.  The  coachman 
grew  furious  at  the  astonishing  coolness  with  which 


312  Memokiks   ovkk  thk  Water. 

the  gay  Lothario  ordered  him  to  drive  to  his  lodgings. 
The  little  man  threatened  to  hand  them  over  to  the 
police,  if  they  did  not  descend  instantcr.  The  in- 
truder insisted  upon  explaining  the  matter  before 
alirrhtino:;  but  the  incensed  Jehu  would  not  listen 
to  him,  fully  persuaded  he  had  entered  the  coach 
designedly.  Finding  the  gentleman  unreasonable,  he 
became  indignant,  and  knocked  the  unhappy  man's 
•hat  over  his  eyes,  and  made  his  escape  into  another 
vehicle,  while  he  vcas  filling  the  depths  of  his  chapeau 
with  his  execrations,  and  dancing  about  in  the  rain 
like  a  decapitated  chicken. 

During  the  winter  that  we  were  in  Paris  it  M^as  the 
custom  of  the  American  Consul,  Mr.  Goodrich,  to 
hold  a  reception  at  his  rooms  on  Hue  de  la  Paix 
every  Friday  evening.  Here  you  might  meet  with 
most  of  the  Americans  in  Paris,  with  a  charming 
diversity  in  the  way  of  the  gay  French.  These  social 
gatherings  were  very  agreeable,  and  served  to  render 
our  Consul  very  popular  with  his  countrymen  in 
Europe.  His  wife  and  two  daughters  were  very 
pleasant  ladies,  especially  the  daughters,  who  danced 
superbly.  Mr.  Goodrich,  who,  be  it  remembered, 
is  the  veritable  Peter  Parley — that  old  gentleman 
so  popular  with  every  child  in  the  Union  —  we 
found  a  courteous  and  accomplislied  gentleman. 
Among  the  agreeable  acquaintances  we  formed  at  his 
receptions,  we  may  not  forget  a  sweet  young  girl  from 
the  city  of  New  York — a  fair  maiden  with  pensive, 
lustrous  hazel  eyes  that  seemed  the  very  windows  of 


Memoeies  over  the  Watek.  313 

a  feelin2r,  full  and  trutlifnl  soul.  She  was  one  of 
those  magnetic  fairies  to  whom  you  felt  involuntarily 
attracted  —  in  whose  presence  you  loved  to  linger,  and 
whose  absence  you  immediately  felt  and  regretted. 
Her  beaming  smile  went  directly  to  the  heart,  awoke 
its  chords  to  a  responsive  sympathy,  and  filling  up 
its  recesses  with  the  breathing  music  of  a  congenial 
spirit.  As  regularly  as  the  appointed  hour  rolled 
round  we  would  find  ourself  wending  our  way  to  bask 
again  in  the  sunshine  of  that  smile. 

On  the  evening  of  the  7th  of  February  we  went,  in 
company  with  Brady,  Bent  and  "Walker,  to  a  very 
fashionable  ball,  celebrated  by  the  dramatic  artists  of 
Paris,  at  the  Opera  Comique,  Our  companion  Bent, 
Lieutenant  in  the  United  States'  navy,  is  the  same 
gentleman  of  whom  Bayard  Taylor  speaks  so  highly 
in  his  letters  descriptive  of  the  Japan  Expedition. 
He  was  at  that  time  on  furlough,  and  traveling 
through  Europe.  He  had  for  companions,  during  a 
portion  of  his  tour,  Messrs.  Walker,  Boudinot,  Jones, 
and  Gwathmey — all  lieutenants  in  the  United  States' 
navy.  On  reaching  the  ballroom  we  found  most  of 
the  stage  celebrities  of  Paris  in  attendance.  The 
handsome  room  presented  a  very  brilliant  appearance, 
resplendent  with  a  dashing  display  of  dress  among 
the  ladies.  Many  of  them  were  quite  pretty.  The 
balls  at  the  Opera  Comique  are  something  sul  gen- 
eris. They  are  more  dressy,  more  distingue  than 
those  of  the  Jardin  d'Hiver  ;  they  are  not  charac- 
terized by  the  untrammelcd  revelry  of  thei?a?  Masque 
20 


314  Memokies   ovek  the  Watek, 

at  the  Grand  Opera ;  they  have  not  the  poetry  of  the 
Chateau  des  Flours,  the  Mabille,  or  the  Chateau 
Rouge ;  nor  yet  have  they  the  plebeian  cast  of  the 
Valentino  or  the  Paganini.  They  are  more  patron- 
ized by  the  liaut  ton  of  the  capital,  and  boast  a 
greater  degree  of  reserve  than  any  other  public  affair. 
The  stranger,  as  he  glances  over  the  city  of  Paris, 
sees  its  worst  features  at  a  blush.  There  is  an 
atmosphere  of  frivolity  and  looseness  about  the  place 
that  convinces  him  immediately  must,  in  a  greater  or 
less  degree,  contaminate  tlie  entire  population.  Yet 
the  aggregate  of  wickedness  may  not  rise  much  higher 
here  than  in  many  other  European  capitals.  It  is 
indeed  more  openly  patronized,  and  therefore  appears 
the  more  enormous.  Vice  stands  un vailed,  and  the 
social  system,  like  an  ostrich,  hides  but  a  small 
portion  of  its  carcass  in  the  decencies  of  life,  and 
leaves  the  rest  uncovered.  Suicide,  Foundling  Hos- 
pitals, the  Morgue,  the  Theaters,  the  Masked  Balls, 
etc.,  form  strong  features  in  the  first  view  of  Paris. 
But,  alas  for  the  nature  of  man,  how  soon  one  gets 
used  to  them !  how  soon  indifferent  to  their  horrors 
or  their  follies. 


CHAPTER    XLVI. 


Among  our  many  pleasant  resorts  at  Taris  we  may 
not  forget  the  social  balls  given  by  our  dancing- 
master  at  No.  320  Rue  St.  Ilonore.  They  were  not 
very  numerously  attended,  but  all  the  more  pleasant 
for  that.  The  leader  of  our  festivities  was  a  very 
clever  young  Frenchman,  whose  rare  entertaining 
qualities  and  inexhaustible  fund  of  new  and  amusing 
dances  made  him  at  once  the  "damoiseau  du  bal." 
But  the  "  helle  of  the  ball "  was  a  pretty  little  French 
woman,  married  to  a  dark-browed  and  somber-look- 
ing individual,  who  seemed  not  much  to  relish  the 
merry-making.  His  gay  and  fascinating  little  wife, 
however,  danced  away,  and  was  as  light-hearted 
and  joyous  as  the  merriest  at  the  jubilee.  B.  was 
there,  and  having  aboard  several  glasses,  was  one 
of  the  politest  and  happiest  fellows  in  the  world. 
He  would  insist  on  helping  and  re-helping  the  ladies 
to  punch,  and  when  the  dance  was  concluded  would 
go  round  fanning  each  and  every  lady  in  the  room. 
V.  was  also  there.  His  natural  disposition  was  gay 
and  animated,  but  on  these  occasions  he  was  a  perfect 
wild-cat.     Poor  fellow  !  he  was  then  under  the  advice 

p,nd  treatment  of  the  celebrated  physician  Baron  Loui3 

( :^l•^ ) 


31G  Memories  over  the  AVater. 

for  consumption.  And  then  there  was  the  fat  Ger- 
man, weighing  not  an  ounce  less  than  two  hundred 
avoirdupois,  and  yet  one  of  the  best  waltzers  we  ever 
saw. 

Among  the  many  curious  dances  we  must  not  omit 
mention  of  one,  Avherein  the  company  all  join  hands 
and  dance  around  a  lady  posted  iu  the  center.  After 
the  lapse  of  a  few  moments  the  lady  iu  the  circle 
chooses  from  among  the  sterner  sex  a  partner,  who 
leaves  the  ring  and  joins  hands  with  his  fair  com- 
panion. The  dance  is  then  continued  again,  and 
accompanied  with  a  song;  at  a  certain  part  thereof 
the  center  couple  bow ;  at  another  they  kneel  facing 
each  other ;  and  at  another  the  lady  gracefully  and 
coquettishly  presents  each  cheek  for  the  gentlemen  to 
salute.  They  then  rise,  the  lady  joins  the  circle  of 
dancers,  and  the  gentleman  chooses  him  a  partner 
from  among  the  gentler  sex ;  and  so  on  alternately. 
This  dance  was  quite  the  favorite,  only  it  was  painful 
to  see  how  assiduously  the  prettiest  ladies  were  sought, 
and  alas !  to  see  how  studiously  certain  others  were 
avoided. 

Witli  many  such  dances  were  the  festivities  pro- 
longed, until  frequently  the  gray  eye  of'  morning 
looked  in,  and  found  the  revelers  there. 

On  the  evening  of  the  14th  of  February  we  attend- 
ed the  grand  ball  given  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor, 
at  the  Jardin  d'lliver,  and  under  the  especial  aus- 
pices of  the  Prince  President.  Turning  down  Rue 
Rivoli,  from  Rue  du  Dauphin,  we  proceeded  under 


Memories  over  the  Waikr.  317 

the  cover  of  its  handsome  arcades,  until  wi;  reached 
the  Place  de  la  Concorde.  Crossing'  over  this  niairui- 
ficent  Square,  we  passed  under  the  shad(jvv  ut'  the 
obelisk  of  Luxor,  and  proceeded  ouM-ard  up  the 
Champs  Elysecs.  Tlie  stranger  who  has  once  seen 
this  portion  of  Paris  by  gas-light,  may  never  forget 
its  magic  beauty.  A  long  line  of  brilliant  lights 
reach  far  away  in  the  distance,  up  to  the  Triumphal 
Arch,  sparkling  like  thick-set  gems  in  the  deep  man- 
tle of  night.  On  each  and  every  side  of  the  Place 
de  la  Concorde  flicker  the  burnished  lamps,  shedding 
a  flood  of  light  to  guide  the  nocturnal  rambler  on  his 
way.  On  every  hand  dark-browed  buildings  lift  up 
their  giant  forms,  and  cast  their  far-reaching  shadows 
out  upon  the  Square.  In  its  center  stands  the  famous 
obelisk  of  Luxor,  with  its  queer  hieroglyphics,  and 
looking  down  upon  the  spot  where,  in  the  dark  and 
bloody  days  of  Prance,  the  insatiate  Guillotine  called, 
with  clamorous  voice,  for  food. 

But  we  have  crossed  the  square,  and  about  half- 
way up  the  Champs  Elysees  we  reach  the  Jardin 
d'lliver.  Depositing  our  hat  and  palteau  at  the  door, 
and  paying  our  admission  fee,  we  pass  in,  and  a  scene 
of  perfect  enchantment  is  spread  before  our  eyes.  We 
stand  under  the  roof  of  a  beautiful  crystal  palace, 
brilliantly  illuminated  with  countless  chandeliers, 
and  redolent  with  the  perfume  of  flowers.  A  magni- 
flcent  band  of  music  is  playing  one  of  its  most  spirited 
airs,  and  thousands  of  the  gay  dancers,  with  flying 
feet,  sweep  before  us,  as   we  stand  for  a  moment  in 


318  Memories  ovek  the  Watee. 

silent  admiration  of  the  magic  scene.  Between  the 
pauses  of  the  music,  you  hear  the  busy  hum  of  voices, 
and  in  the  distance  the  sound  of  falling  water,  as  it 
joyously  mounts  upon  the  perfumed  air,  from  the 
depths  of  the  sculpture-decked  fountains,  and  falls 
airain,  like  a  shower  of  diamonds,  into  the  marble- 
rimmed  basin.  You  stroll  leisurely  along  through 
the  mazy  labyrinths  of  tliis  fairy  building,  now  ming- 
ling with  the  dancers  under  the  full  glare  of  the 
chandelier,  and  now  straying  under  the  shade  of  the 
orange-grove.  The  senses  are  lulled  into  a  dreamy 
repose,  as  the  soft  swell  of  the  music  and  the  lute- 
like murmuring  of  the  falling  water  steal,  with  deli- 
cious footsteps,  along  the  avenues  of  the  soul.  There 
is  a  dream  of  happy  lands  upon  the  spirit — lands 
beneath  the  tropics,  where  all  is  beauty,  and  the 
heart  doth  waste  itself  in  mere  pursuit  of  joy.  There 
are  fountains  and  flowers,  music  and  mirth,  crimson 
and  blue,  the  draped  glory  of  oriental  luxury.  Along 
through  the  Paphian  bowers  we  stray,  and  turning 
into  a  shaded  pathway,  a  being  of  youth  and  beauty 
breaks  upon  our  sight  like  a  startled  fawn.  Not  one 
only,  but  a  host  of  Cyprians  lovelier  than  the  Lamias 
of  old — crushed  rose-leaves  scattered  from  the  vases 
of  luxury  to  feed  the  passions  and  lure  the  judgment 
of  man.  Look  at  the  eyes  of  that  child  of  sin  —  see 
the  dove-like  expression  of  her  glance  —  the  pure 
white  of  her  lily  fingers  as  she  parts  the  long  hair 
from  her  brow  where  purity  itself  seems  throned — 
then  mark  that  seductive  little  foot  nestled  on  its  blw§ 


Memories   over  the  "Water.  319 

cushion  like  a  Halcyon  on  the  water,  and  that  young 
breast,  whose  gentle  movement  swells  to  rapture  at 
your  dreamy  gaze,  and  those  light  lips  so  ripe,  so 
warm,  so  full  of  bliss  yet  unrcvealed;  and  tell  us 
where  mischief  stops  when  such  an  agent  holds  the 
torch  !  Look  on  a  picture  such  as  this,  and  see  one 
phase  in  Paris  life — see  the  current  of  that  flowery 
stream  along  which  glide  the  chain  bound  captives 
of  the  Syren,  heedless  of  that  deep,  dark  gulf  toward 
which  their  oarless  boats  are  swiftly  tending.  But 
when  once  the  murky  goal  is  reached,  at  memory's 
call  shall  start — 

Such  hideous  phantoms  from  the  pall. 

That  shuts  the  present  from  the  past. 
As  turn  life's  sweetest  cup  to  gall 

And  wormwood  —  the  sirocco  blast, 
Thatwitliers  with  its  dragon  breath. 

Perchance  the  return  hope  hath  fed 
A  faint  and  sickly  flame,  ere  yet 

Its  every  feeble  ray  had  fled. 
And,  struggling  on  its  course,  had  set 

In  the  still  chaos  of  despair. 
Grim  specters,  like  to  murder'd  ghosts. 

Then  lift  their  grizzly  forms,  and  stare 
And  scowl  upon  the  soul ;  but  lost 

To  joy  or  fear,  it  voiceless  sits, 
As  the  mute  statue  vacant  looks 

Upon  the  fiery  waste,  nor  recks 
Where  roll  the  red  and  lambent  floods. 

But  we  are  getting  metaphysically  moral,  and  so  will 
return  to  the  ball.     Not  until  about  two  o'clock  in  tlie 


320  Memories   over  the  Water. 

morning  did  the  crowd  begin  to  disperse,  and  give  the 
gay  dancers  the  open  field.  This  desideratum  being 
accomplished,  innumeraible  couples  went  whirling 
away  to  the  measure  of  most  exquisite  music.  Now 
and  then  two  of  them  would  come  in  contact,  and 
send  each  other  spinning  and  laughing  away  in  oppo- 
site directions.  But  nothing  broke  the.  enjoyment  of 
the  night  —  "all  went  merry  as  a  marriage  bell." 
The  close  of  the  ball  was  its  most  pleasant  part.  The 
spectators  had  departed,  leaving  the  room  cool  and 
pleasant,  and  the  dancers  to  conclude  the  festive 
scene.  Then  came  that  reckless,  frenzied  dance, 
denominated  the  "  Cancan."  It  is  said  that  it  origi- 
nated with  the  Due  d'Orleans.  To  describe  it  were 
impossible,  but  when  once  seen  it  is  never  forgotten. 

"  On  with  the  dance  —  let  joy  be  unconfincd! 
No  sleep  till  morn,  wlien  youth  aud  pleasure  meet 
To  chase  the  glowing  hours  with  flying  feet." 

And  on  went  the  dance  until  the  early  morn,  when 
the  curtain  dropped  upon  the  scene  of  mirth,  and  the 
gay  revelers  dispersed  to  rouse  the  drowsy  "  con- 
cierge," and  sleep  the  next  day  out.  We  slumbered 
unconscious  of  the  busy  world  about  us,  until  about 
two  o'clor-k,  p.  M.,  on  the  succeeding  day.  We  then 
got  up,  and,  after  rather  a  late  breakfast,  we  betook 
ourself  to  the  Tuilleries  Gardens  to  look  on  at  the  gay 
gambols  of  the  children  that  gather  here  to  enjoy  the 
many  amusements  incident  to  childhood.  Some  we 
found   jumping  the   rope;  others  were  chasing  the 


Memories   over  the  Water,  321 

variegated  foot-ball  over  the  smooth,  hard  ground  ; 
some  were  feeding  the  swans,  as  they  glided  so 
proudly  over  the  water-ponds;  some  sailing  their 
boats,  and  some  playing  hide-and-seek  with  their 
favorite  poodles — presenting  a  scene  of  perfect  happi- 
ness. He  who  would  have  his  heart  refreshed,  after 
the  dissipation  of  a  night,  let  him  go,  on  a  bright 
Sunday  afternoon,  to  the  Tuilleries  Gardens,  where, 
in  strong  contrast  to  the  reckless  revelry  of  maturer 
age,  he  will  see  the  bright  faces  and  hear  the  sweet 
voices  of  happy,  innocent  childhood.  Let  him  not, 
however,  speculate  upon  the  future  lot  of  those 
guileless  ones — for  heavy  shadows  may  loom  before 
the  sight,  and  chase  the  smile  of  sweet  innocence 
from  off  those  sunny  brows.  The  hour  of  study,  the 
world,  the  lover,  the  neglect,  the  Seine,  the  Morgue, 
the  dissecting-room. 

A  visit  to  St.  Cloud  may  be  made  both  profitable 
and  pleasant.  You  may  see  the  maneuvers  of  the 
military,  and  explore  the  Chateau  and  its  adjacent 
grounds.  The  list  runs  —  bedroom  of  the  Emperor, 
furniture  of  Josephine,  the  scene  of  the  announce- 
ment. Billiard-room,  Library,  and  Orangery.  The 
Seine  winds  gently  along  by  the  Palace,  lending  the 
charm  of  water  scenery  to  his  favorite  resort  of 
Napoleon.  The  situation  of  the  Chateau  is  very 
fine,  and  commands  an  excellent  view  of  Paris. 

Then  one  should  see  too  the  Pantheon,  the  Palace 
of    the    Luxembourg,    the    Jardin    des   Plants,   the 

Gobelins,  the  Hotel   Cluney,  the  Quatier   Latin,  the 

27 


822  Memories    over  the  Water. 

Jews'  Quarter,  the  Champs  de  Mars,  the  Morgue, 
the  Artesian  Well,  the  Bois  dii  Boulogue,  the  Chateau 
Mendon,  the  Sevres  Porcelain  Manufactory  the  Place 
de  la  Carrousel,  the  Louvre  and  its  galleries  of  sculp- 
ture and  paintings,  the  Madeleine,  the  Observatoire, 
the  Palais  Royal,  St.  Roch,  the  Oratoire,  the  Institut 
de  France,  Neuilly,  the  City  Granary,  the  Salle  Yic- 
toire,  the  Valentino,  the  Paganini,  the  Prado,  the 
Academic,  the  Sorbonne,  etc.,  to  the  end  of  the  chap- 
ter. They  will  all  repay  the  trouble  of  a  visit,  but 
are  too  well  known  to  require  a  description. 


CHAPTER     XLVII. 

On  the  23d  of  February,  1852,  tlie  three  days  of 
tlie  Carnival  began,  and,  as  customary,  with  the 
celebration  of  the  "  Boeuf  Gras,"  At  10  o'clock,  a.  m., 
the  procession  set  out  from  the  Ilippodrome,  and 
moved  down  the  Faubourg  St.  Ilonore,  stopping  for  a 
short  time  before  the  "  Elysee  National,"  then  the 
residence  of  the  Prince  President. 

But  this  time-honored  and  national  custom  has 
sadly  degenerated  from  its  former  magnificence, 
and  the  affair  we  witnessed  was  by  no  means  a 
creditable  one  to  the  city  of  Paris.  The  procession 
was  headed  by  about  twenty  drummere — they  never 
use  the  fife  in  France — after  whom  followed  a  com- 
pany of  fancifully-dressed  horsemen.  Then  came 
"the  fatted  ox,"  with  his  horns  gilded,  and  his  body 
wreathed  with  flowers.  ISText  succeeded  a  chariot, 
drawn  by  four  horses  abreast,  in  which  stood  a 
woman  with  a  helmet  on  her  head,  representing,  wo 
presume,  the  Goddess  of  Liberty.  Then  came  two 
handsome  cars,  very  large,  and  crowded  with  men 
and  women  in  fancy  dress,  all  bedecked  with  banners 
and  flowers.  The  procession  was  accompanied  by  a 
body  of  mounted  men  to  preserve  order  and  prevent 

any   riotous   disposition.      The    cavalcade,   with    its 

323  > 


324  Memories   over  the  Water. 

pageantry,  proceeded   throngliout  tlic  length  of  the 
cit}^  winding  up  about  the  close  of  the  day. 

The  Monday  following  was  celebrated  in  pretty 
much  the  same  way,  and  Tuesday  concluded  the  fes- 
tival. In  the  early  part  of  the  day  the  "  Boeuf  Gras" 
was  again  led  around  the  city,  and  toward  evening  a 
long  line  of  carriages  began  to  form  along  the  Boule- 
vards, down  Rue  Royal  and  across  the  Place  de  la 
Concorde.  The  line  extended  up  the  Boulevards  as 
far  as  the  Porte  St.  Denis,  where  it  turned  down 
again  on  the  opposite  side,  and  retraced  its  course 
back  to  the  Place  de  la  Concorde,  thus  forming  a 
circle.  It  was  composed  of  every  class  of  vehicle, 
and  must  have  been  miles  in  length.  Here  was  the 
gilded  coach  of  the  Nabob,  there  the  light  chariot  of 
the  Prince,  here  the  democratic  cab,  there  the  coarse 
cart  of  the  peasant  overflowing  with  his  buxum  wife 
and  many  chubby  offspring.  As  we  stood  looking 
on  there  passed  by  a  handsome  carriage,  with  liveried 
driver  and  footman,  and  in  it  sat  the  very  embodi- 
ment of  loveliness  —  a  beautiful  French  girl,  with 
hazel  eyes  and  flowing  curls.  Just  as  the  coach 
came  opposite  where  we  stood,  the  fair  inmate  threw 
open  the  window  and  called  to  the  footman,  who  sat 
perched  up  behind.  But  the  lackey  in  livery  was  so 
busily  occupied  in  noting  the  accouterments  of  the 
cavalcade,  that  he  did  not  hear  the  repeated  calls  of 
his  fair  lady.  Observing  this,  we  stepped  up,  and, 
tapping  the  absent-minded  servant  with  our  cane, 
directed  his  attention  to  the  fair  maiden.     How  little 


Memokiks   ovicii  THE  "Watek.  325 

incidents  Bometimes  linger  on  tlie  mind  !  For  our 
courtesy  we  were  rewarded  with  one  of  the  sweetest 
of  smiles.  That  fair  face  came  and  passed  ;  but  the 
heart-cheering  light  of  that  smile  took  up  its  abode  in 
our  memory,  and  even  now,  in  our  lonelier  moments, 
will  come  gleaming,  like  a  ray  of  sunshine,  from  out 
the  twilight  of  the  past,  to  illumine  the  pathway  of  life. 

From  the  top  of  the  Tanthcon,  the  Triumphal 
Arch,  and  the  column  in  the  Place  Yendome,  may 
be  had  excellent  views  of  the  great  city  Paris.  Fre- 
quently we  would  climb  to  their  summits  to  look 
over  the  vast  metropolis,  and  study  the  map  of  its 
geography.  Then  coming  down  we  would  visit  the 
Morgue,  a  small,  dingy  building,  sitting  just  on  the 
bank  of  the  Seine.  This  house  of  the  dead  was 
seldom  without  some  occupant.  The  features  of  some 
were  distorted  as  though  they  had  died  in  violent 
agonies,  while  those  of  others  wore  as  calm  and  placid 
a  smile  as  though  the  insensate  clay  were  only  sleep- 
ing. Outside  the  gloomy  building  you  might  ever 
find  a  crowd,  gathered  to  laugh  and  amuse  itself  at 
the  comic  actions  of  some  poor  devil,  who,  by  his 
mimicry  of  monkey  capers,  was  wont  to  gather  a  few 
sous  that  might  keep  body  and  soul  together.  There 
Avas  but  one  step  from  noisy  life  to  pulseless  death. 

On  the  Champs  Elysees  you  might,  every  after- 
noon, meet  the  carriage  of  the  embryo  Emperor.  As 
you  pass  along  you  observe  a  policeman  suddenly 
appear  on  the  crowded  carriage-way,  arresting  the 
progress  of  some,  and  hurrying  that  of  others.     By 


326  Memories   over  the  Water. 

this  yon  may  know  the  President  is  about  to  appear. 
Soon  a  modest  little  coujpee  dashes  out,  now  accom- 
panied by  no  body-guard.  The  stranger  steps  to  the 
side-walk  to  have  a  fair  view  of  him  as  he  passes. 
He  is  greeted  with  a  few  feeble  cheers,  and  you  have 
a  fine  view  of  his  face  as  he  goes  by,  for  he  is  bending 
forward,  looking  out  of  the  window,  and  gracefully 
touching  his  hat  to  those  who  cheer  him.  Occasion- 
ally some  poor  woman  rushes  out  from  the  sidewalk, 
and  throws  a  petition  in  at  the  carriage  window. 
She  was  made  a  widow,  perhaps,  during  the  fight  on 
the  Boulevards. 

After  visiting  the  Hotel  Cluney,  built  on  the  site  of 
the  old  Palace  of  Thermes,  and  filled  with  all  manner 
of  antiquities,  you  may  stroll  over  the  "  Quatier 
Latin,"  look  in  at  the  Sorbonne,  and  note  the  medical 
students,  the  Bedouins  of  Paris.  On  your  return  call 
in  at  the  time-honored  Cathedral  of  Notre  Dame, 
and  stroll  among  its  solemn  arches.  Here  you  may 
see  the  magnificent  robes  of  state  worn  by  Napoleon 
at  his  coronation  ;  many  rich  and  costly  jewels ;  and 
the  gorgeous  apparel  of  the  priests,  who,  with  the 
Pope,  ofiiciated  at  the  ceremony.  Here  you  may  also 
see  a  beautiful  painting,  of  modern  execution,  repre- 
senting the  death  of  the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  during 
the  revolution  of  184:8.  You  will  also  be  shown  a 
piece  of  the  spine  of  the  revered  man,  pierced  by  a 
golden  arrow,  to  show  the  course  of  the  ball  which 
occasioned  his  death.  On  its  point  is  stuck  the 
identical    piece   of   lead,   which   is    preserved   as   a 


Memories   over  the  Water.  327 

precious  memento  of  the  holy  martyr.  You  may  see, 
too,  a  very  expressive  marble  group,  representing  the 
prophetic  dream  of  a  wife.  She  is  portrayed  as 
gazing  on  the  emaciated  body  of  her  husband,  as  he 
raises  himself  from  out  his  coffin,  the  lid  of  which  is 
held  up  by  a  sorrowing  angel.  At  its  head  stands 
the  gaunt  figure  of  Death,  wrapped  partially  in  a 
gloomy  mantle,  above  which  peers  his  hideous  head. 

In  this  cathedral  we  stood  upon  the  very  stone 
where  Napoleon  stood  to  receive  the  crown  from  the 
Pope,  while  Mrs.  B.  occupied  the  position  of  the 
Empress  Josephine.  The  guide  will  tell  you  that 
Napoleon  approached  the  steps  of  the  altar  to  receive 
the  crown,  and,  inasmuch  as  his  Holiness  was  too 
long  in  pronouncing  the  coronation  ceremony,  the 
impatient  warrior  took  the  crown  himself  from  the 
hands  of  the  Pope,  and  placed  it  on  his  brow,  and 
then  turning  deposited  the  diadem  on  the  head  of 
Josephine.     Ill-fated  omen  to  the  Napoleon  dynasty. 

On  the  2Sth  of  February  we  paid  a  visit  to  Lafay- 
ette's grave.  Accompanied  b}^  Brady  and  Brevard 
we  took  an  omnibus  at  Palais  lloyal,  and  passing  up 
the  left  bank  of  the  Seine  we  reached,  by  Rue  St. 
Antoine,  the  Place  Bastille.  Here  we  changed  our 
omnibus,  and,  by  means  of  our  through  tickets, 
called  by  the  Parisiens  correspojidence^  we  left  the 
Bastille  with  its  beautiful  bronze  column,  capped  by 
a  winged  statue,  richly  gilded,  and  erected  to  the 
memoiy  of  those  who  fell  in  the  revolution  of  the 
27th,  28th,  and  29th  of  July,  1830,  and  pursued  our 


328  Memories  over  the  "Water. 

way  toward  the  Barriere  du  Troiie,     On  each  side  of 
this  gateway  rises  a  beautiful  and  lofty  fluted  column, 
its  base  handsomely  ornamented  with  bas-reliefs,  and 
presenting  a  fine  appearance,  as  seen  from  a  distance. 
Soon  after  passing  the  Barriere  we  reached  the  fine 
old  fortress  of  Vincennes,  situated  about  a  mile  and  a 
half  out  from  the  city.     By  means  of  Brady's  pass- 
port, which  he  fortunately  had  in  his  pocket,  we  were 
admitted  within  the  walls  by  the  sentinel  on  guard. 
Applying  next  to  the  pretty  concierge  we  were  by  her 
placed  in  charge  of  one  of  the  numerous  soldiers, 
who  marched  us  ofi"  to  the  commanding  general,  who 
furnished  us  with  written  permission  to  explore  the 
garrison.     First  we  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  lofty 
watch-tower,  and  looked  down  upon  the  spot  where 
the  gallant  Due  D'Enghien  was   shot  by  order  of 
Napoleon.    We  then  proceeded  to  the  Armory,  which 
we  found  well  stocked  with   all  manner  of  warlike 
instruments,  and  so  arranged  as  to  be  ready  at  a 
moment's  warning  for  service.     In  the  courtyai'd  are 
immense  numbers  of  cannon-balls,  bomb-shells,  etc., 
all  neatly  piled  in  pyramids,  and  ready  for  trans- 
portation.    Next  we  visited  the  new  and  elegantly- 
arranged  stables  for  the  cavalry,  containing  at  the 
time   four   thousand   steeds   of  war.     These   stables 
were  put  up  by  Louis  Philippe,  just  previous  to  his 
expulsion  from  the  throne  of  France. 

We  now  proceeded  to  the  Cemetere  du  Piepus,  and 
stood  by  the  grave  of  the  noble-hearted  Lafa^'ette,  the 
loved  and  gallant  champion  of  American  independ- 


Memories   oveu  the  Water.  329 

ence.  lie  lies  in  the  fur  corner  of  this  solitary  little 
cemetery,  und  the  plain  slab  of  black  marble,  tliat 
rests  above  the  breast  of  the  hero,  bears  upon  it  no 
vaunting  inscription.  Who  could  write  the  epitai»h 
of  Lafayette?  By  his  side  reposes  the  body  of  his 
wife,  and  close  by  that  of  his  son,  George  Washing- 
ton Lafayette.  Wo  plucked  a  green  leaf  from  a  vine 
that  clambered  over  the  -wall,  to  remind  us  in  after 
days  of  our  visit  to  the  grave  of  this  matchless  man. 
lu  the  same  burial-ground  are  the  family  vaults  of 
Montmorency,  Montague,  Morillon,  Lorambo,  etc. 

A  few  days  after,  we  visited  the  magnificent  Mau- 
soleum, then  in  process  of  erection  for  the  reception 
of  the  body  of  Napoleon.  It  is  built  under  the  dome 
of  the  Hotel  des  Invalides.  The  sarcophagus  will 
be  placed  in  the  center  of  "the  wreath  of  victory," 
represented  in  beautiful  mosaic  on  the  floor,  and, 
ranging  round,  stand  mournful  statues  of  the  purest 
marble.  The  descent  to  the  tomb  is  most  imposing 
in  its  gloomy,  solemn  grandeur.  When  completed, 
this  Mausoleum  will  surpass,  in  cost  and  magniii- 
cence,  anything  of  the  kind  in  Europe.  Above  the 
doorway  are  to  be  inscribed  the  words  of  the  great 
chieftain  —  "When  I  die,  let  rac  sleep  upon  the 
banks  of  the  Seine,  among  the  people  whom  I  have 
so  much  loved."  At  the  time  of  our  visit  the  body  of 
Napoleon  was  reposing  in  a  side-chapel  of  the  Hotel 
des  Invalides.  There  were  at  that  time  3,300  of  the 
old  soldiers  of  the  Napoleonic  wars  in  the  hospital, 
hobbling  about  the  resting-place  of  their  dead  chieftain. 


CHAPTER    XLVIII. 


On  the  4tli  of  March  we  took  the  omnibus  at  the 
Place  dn  PaLais  Royal,  and  paid  a  visit  to  the  Cathe- 
dral of  St.  Denis,  situated  about  five  miles  from 
Paris.  Here  repose  the  bodies  of  the  former  kings 
of  France  —  Gallia's  great — her  undying  ones.  But 
we  did  not  feel  so  enthusiastic  as  when,  in  tlie  dim 
light  of  Westminster,  we  stood  above  the  ashes  of 
England's  worthies.  And  yet  the  solitary  grave  of  a 
Smollet  or  a  Keats  is  more  apt  to  impress  you  with 
the  vanity  of  earthly  fame,  and  to  awaken  those 
solemn  reflections  which  lead  to  a  lofty  and  nobler 
view  of  man's  destiny  than  the  somber  Cathedral, 
with  its  cold,  damp  vaults,  its  marble  monuments, 
and  stained  glass.  Westminster  Abbey  is  more  fitted 
to  give  the  poet  food  for  his  dreams  than  the  states- 
man remorse  for  his  ambition,  or  the  historian  an 
antidote  for  his  prejudice.  The  epitaph  of  royalty'  is 
but  a  poor  record  of  truth  ;  the  churchman's  adulation 
not  unfrequently  a  poorer  proof  of  goodness  ;  and  the 
poet's  monument  a  miserable  consolation  for  a  life- 
time of  neglect.  Still,  it  is  something  in  praise  of 
mankind  that  Genius  should  be  able  to  secure  a 
grave  by  the  side  of  Royalty ;    it  goes  too,  to  prove 

the  equality  of  death.    Beside,  it  is  pleasant  to  see  old 
(  3:j(i  ) 


Memories   over  the  Water.  331 

rivals  sleep  so  quietly  side  by  side  —  to  read  over  the 
names  of  Elizabeth  and  Mary,  Pitt  and  Fox,  as 
though  they  -were  twin  cherries  —  to  wonder  how  the 
children  of  song  manage  matters  over  in  their  depart- 
ment ;  whether  Johnson  finds  a  folio  to  hurl  at  his 
argumentative  neighbor,  or  Goldsmith  turns  his  un- 
speculative  eye  upon  spiritualized  Gamck,  The  tombs 
of  "Westminster  are  the  poetry  of  death.  The  ruling 
stars  of  faction  have  sunk  into  the  same  embrace. 
The  hostile  orbs  of  beauty,  poesy  and  sovereignty 
have  closed  their  fiery  orbits  in  one  common  center. 
Would  the  ashes  of  Byron,  every  stranger  will  in- 
quire, disturb  this  heavenly  repose  ?  Would  it  startle 
the  Regent  from  his  cofiincd  propriety,  or  taint  the  or- 
thodox atmosphere  of  Southey  ?  Yet  here  sleeps  War- 
ren Hastings,  near  the  scene  of  his  political  apotheosis ; 
and  there  lie  Burke  and  Sheridan,  the  consumers  of 
his  glory.  The  sensual  and  the  immoral,  the  vicious 
and  the  vain,  the  tyrant,  the  usurper,  and  the  mur- 
derer— all  find  place ;  but  there  is  no  room  for  Byron ! 
In  the  gloom  of  the  Cathedral's  heavy  arches 
there  is  something  exceedingly  solemn  and  beautiful. 
There  is  a  mystic  power,  a  voiceless  religion  in  its 
vacant  stalls  and  knightly  banners,  filled  with  the 
dust  of  centuries,  and  untouched  by  the  breezes  of 
Heaven.  Time  stands  like  a  stoled  priest  at  its 
altar,  and  the  beings  of  the  mind  move  noiselessly 
over  the  marble  floor.  Around  you  lie  the  marble 
cfiigies  of  buried  majesty ;  with  here  and  there  some 
kneeling  form,  with  stony  hands  stretched  in  eternal 


332  Memories   over  the  AVater. 

supplication.  Eiide  figures,  with  trailing  garments, 
bend  life-like,  in  the  dim,  discolored  light,  over  the 
stiff  and  outstretched  body  of  some  armed  warrior ; 
and  pale  statues  look  coldly  from  their  pedestals  upon 
your  reverential  homage.  You  stalk  like  an  earthly 
intruder  amid  the  devotion  of  unimpassioned  penitents, 
whose  vow  is  silence,  and  whose  occupation  prayer. 

On  the  Gth  of  March  we  went  out  to  look  upon 
some  of  the  shadows  of  life  in  Paris.  We  crossed 
over  the  Seine,  and  proceeded  up  the  river  as  far  as 
the  Institut  de  France.  Here  we  turned  up  Kue  du 
Seine,  and  went  on  as  far  as  Kue  de  Bussi.  First  we 
stopped  in  at  Ecole  du  Medecin,  and  went  over  the 
fine  anatomical  museum.  Then,  a  few  paces  farther, 
we  came  to  Ecole  Pratique,  and  went  over  its 
museum,  which  served  as  an  excellent  preparative  for 
the  scenes  that  were  to  follow.  Passing  into  the 
courtyard,  the  first  object  that  greeted  our  sight  was 
the  dead  body  of  a  man  lying  perfectly  nude,  and 
exposed  on  the  cold  stones,  neglected  and  unnoticed 
until  some  one  should  come  and  take  him  up  for  the 
dissecting  knife.  The  body  lay  close  to  the  door; 
and  one  of  the  students,  finding  it  in  his  way  as  he 
came  out,  gave  the  senseless  corpse  a  kick,  which 
sent  it  rolling  over  the  courtyard.  This  was  more 
than  the  humanity  of  our  companion,  old  man 
McCullough,  could  bear.  lie  said  that  he  was  sick 
at  heart  to  witness  such  barbarity,  and  immediately 
retraced  his  steps  homeward.  But  Brady  and  ourself, 
owing,  perhaps,  to  our  less  sensitive  nature,  passed 


Memories  ovkr  jiiI':  Watkk.  333 

on,  to  look  in  at  tlic  dissecting  rooms.  On  each  side 
of  the  courtyard  were  ranged  small,  dingy  buildings, 
much  resembling  the  Morgue,  only  with  many  win- 
dows at  their  sides,  that  the  light  of  Heaven  might 
peer  through  upon  their  nauseating  scenes.  In  one 
corner  sat  the  somber,  coffin-shaped  litter,  in  which 
the  bodies  were  brought  for  dissection.  Proceeding 
to  the  larger  building  at  the  farther  end  of  the  court- 
yard, and  mounting  a  nan-ow  flight  of  dirty  stairs,  we 
opened  the  first  door  on  our  left,  and  entered  one  of 
the  largest  of  the  dissecting  rooms.  Here,  on  the 
many  tables  arranged  for  the  purpose,  lay  about  forty 
bodies,  around  which  gathered  the  students  and  pro- 
fessors of  the  healing  art.  There  stood  a  knot  of 
young  men,  attentively  listening  to  their  instructor, 
as,  with  knife  in  hand,  he  was  blending  theory  with 
practice  in  demonstrating  the  proper  method  of  am- 
putating an  arm.  At  an  adjoining  table  sat  a  second 
professor,  earnestly  discussing  some  point  in  anatomy, 
over  the  dead  body  of  a  subject,  to  a  handsome  and 
fash  ion  ably -dressed  student,  who  nonchalantly  sat  on 
the  other  side.  We  thought,  as  we  looked  on  the 
butchers  of  that  charnel-house,  with  their  blouses 
smeared  with  the  gore  of  the  dead,  and  their  hands 
all  red  in  the  blood  of  the  same,  that  not  for  the 
wealth  of  Crcesus,  nor  the  wisdom  of  Baron  Louis, 
would  we  so  dabble  in  the  corruption  of  humanity. 
Let  others  devote  themselves  to  the  noble  calling, 
which,  they  say,  is  followed  for  the  prolonging  of  life 
and  the  preservation  of  health  :  if  it  be  necessary  to 


33-4  Memokies  ovek  the  Watek. 

undergo  such  scenes  daily  as  we  there  witnessed,  our 
ambition  is  not  equal  to  reach  the  goal.  And  yet 
how  merrily  did  these  fellows  chat  over  the  sickening 
corruption  before  them  !  IIow  careless  did  they  seem, 
and  how  unfeelingly  did  they  cut  away  with  the  cold 
steel  on  the  bodies,  all  livid  with  the  hue  of  death. 
Here  lay  the  muscular  limbs  of  a  once  powerful  man, 
all  mangled  and  bloody ;  there  the  figure  of  a  youth- 
ful woman,  formed  in  beauty's  mold  ;  and  here,  on 
this  gory  board,  the  tiny  body  of  an  infant,  undergoing 
mutilation  at  the  hands  of  a  student.  But,  hurrying 
out  from  this  horrible  place,  we  sought  the  galleries 
of  the  Louvre,  to  lose,  amid  its  creations  of  beauty,  the 
grizzly  shapes  that  were  floating  through  our  brain, 
and  blot  out,  if  possible,  the  memory  of  our  visit. 

On  the  evening  of  the  Sth  of  March  the  opera  of 
William  Tell  was  performed  at  the  grand  French 
Opera  House.  The  scenic  arrangement  was  perfect, 
and  the  effect  of  the  bold  mountain  scenery  very 
beautiful.  The  music  of  this  opera  is  considered  very 
fine,  and  on  this  occasion  it  was  well  received  by  the 
audience.  The  ballet  was  charming,  exhibiting  some 
of  the  best  dancing  we  ever  saw.  The  house  was 
well  filled,  and  presented  a  very  dressy  appearance. 
In  addition  to  all  this,  the  Prince  President  made  his 
appearance  in  the  royal  box,  above  which  were  to  be 
seen  the  significant  initials  L.  N.  We  fortunately 
sat  just  opposite  the  daring  arbitrator,  and  having  a 
good  glass,  we  enjoyed  an  excellent  view  of  his  face 
and  person.     He  wore  a  blue  dress  coat,  with  plain 


Memouies   ovek  'iiiK  Waikk,  335 

gilt  buttons,  and  with  nothing  to  distinguish  liini  as 
the  Dictator  of  France,  save  a  Lroad,  red  sash,  that 
passed  across  his  white  vest,  and  disappeared  under 
the  lappcl  of  his  coat.  His  face  wore  its  usual 
abstracted  expression.  At  times  he  would  lean  his 
head  upon  the  balustrade,  and  seem  lost  in  revery 
for  the  space  of  some  10  or  15  minutes.  Then  rousing 
himself  at  some  of  tlie  finest  passages  of  the  opera, 
he  would  rise  to  his  feet,  and  applaud  by  clapping  his 
hands.  His  late  career  had  been  one  so  full  of  singular 
interest — of  even  dramatic  romance — that  we  occu- 
pied ourself  most  of  the  time  in  studying  his  striking 
physiognomy.  He  could  not  be  called  a  handsome 
man,  and  yet  he  has  by  no  means  an  ordinary  counte- 
nance. Its  expression  is  considerably  concealed  by 
the  enormous  moustache  and  imperial  that  he  wears. 
The  audience  took  but  little  notice  of  his  presence ; 
and  not  one  voice  cried — "  Vive  Napoleon."  "We  sub- 
sequently saw  Madame  Ted esco  and  Roger  in  the  much 
admired  opera  Le  Prophete — the  latter  playing  the  part 
of  the  Prophet,  and  the  former  the  part  of  his  mother. 
The  scenery  was  gorgeous  and  imposing  beyond  de- 
scription ;  and  the  famous  skating  scene,  by  the  ballet 
troupe,  called  forth  continued  applause.  Madame 
Taglioni  danced,  and,  though  then  well  advanced  in 
years,  her  performance  was  rapturously  received. 

On  the  21st  of  March  we  attended  a  review  of  the 
military,  by  Louis  Napoleon,  in  the  Place  de  la 
CaiTOusel.  The  President  was  dressed  in  a  militaiy 
suit,  and  appeared  well,  mounted  on  his  fine  Arabian, 


CHAPTER    XLIX. 

A  VISIT  to  Versailles  is  an  era  in  the  traveler's 
memory.  A  short  ride  on  the  railway  will  bring 
you  to  the  village,  whence  you  proceed  to  the  Palace. 
We  had,  ere  we  saw  Versailles,  looked  on  many 
glorious  Palaces,  proud  triumphs  of  the  genius  of 
architecture :  but  never  a  one  had  we  seen,  which 
could  rival  in  stately  magnificence  that  majestic 
pile — the  Palace  of  Versailles.  Much  we  might 
write  of  this  gorgeous  edifice,  but  we  know  not  where 
to  begin,  and  much  less  would  know  where  to  end. 

But  first  we  visited  the  Grande  Trianon,  and  then 
the  gardens  of  the  Petite  Trianon.  This  accomplish- 
ed we  went  over  the  Palace  proper,  in  which,  by  its 
miles  of  marble  and  of  canvass,  one  may  read  the 
history  of  France,  ay,  we  might  say,  of  the  world  ; 
so  extensive  and  so  varied  is  the  field,  wherein  the 
sculptor  and  the  painter  have  exercised  their  genius. 
In  our  early  boyhood,  in  the  rude  simplicity  of  our 
Republican  birth-land,  we  had  often  dreamed  of  some 
gorgeous  palace,  on  whose  walls  hung  paintings  that 
poesy  had  breathed  upon,  and  on  whose  stately  stair 
ways  stood  the  immortal  creations  of  the  sculptor: 

in  whose  Elysian  fields  were  grottoes   and   bowers, 
esse) 


Memokiks   over  the  Water.  337 

with  the  music  of  many  waters  murmuring  from  out 
their  mossy  beds;  while  on  the  enchanted  view  re- 
freshing fountains  played  and  fragrant  flowers  fed, 
with  redolent  perfume,  the  balmy  air.  And  all  this 
did  we  look  upon,  as  we  stood  amid  the  wealth  of 
wonders  of  the  Versailles  Palace. 

But  the  presiding  genius  of  this  gorgeous  temple  is, 
as  might  be  expected,  the  Emperor  Napoleon.  On 
every  side  you  will  find  that  marked,  that  bold  and 
determined  face,  now  in  the  cold,  white  marble,  and 
now  on  the  glowing  canvass.  You  may  pass  in 
review,  step  by  step,  the  drama  of  his  brilliant  career, 
and  see  him,  as  he  looked,  on  each  of  his  many  battle- 
fields, in  councils  of  war  and  in  treaties  of  peace,  in 
his  bridal  robes  and  assuming  the  imperial  crown,  in 
his  hours  of  triumph  and  on  the  day  of  his  great 
defeat,  in  "the  pomp  and  circumstance"  of  his  high 
station  and  in  the  solitude  of  his  exile. 

"We  explored  the  Palace,  from  cellar  to  attic,  and, 
amonof  the  almost  interminable  series  of  rooms, 
passing  through  the  private  apartments  of  the  luxu- 
rious Louis,  the  Hall  of  the  Crusades  and  the  Sallo 
des  Empires.  Among  the  myriad  portraits  of  illus- 
trious men  we  may  mention  that  we  saw  those  of 
Washington,  Jefferson,  Adams,  Jackson,  Polk,  Clay, 
Webster,  Calhoun,  Jay,  Jones,  Hancock,  and  other 
American  celebrities.  We  may  not  forget  either  the 
exquisitely  beautiful  statue  of  Joan  of  Arc,  executed 
by  the  daughter  of  Louis  Philippe. 

At  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  doors  of  the 
2S 


338  Memories   over  the  Water. 

Palace  are  closed  upon  visitors.  So  leaving  the 
lavish  profusion  of  gorgeous  wealth  and  glittering 
magnificence,  we  strolled  forth,  hand  in  hand  with 
one  of  Albion's  fairest  daughters,  into  the  warm  sun- 
shine of  a  cloudless  heaven,  wandering  listlessly 
amid  the  bowers  and  the  grottoes  of  those  fairy 
grounds.  Our  gentle  companion  was  one  around 
whom  dwelt  a  spell  of  sunlight  and  loveliness,  in 
which  we  did  love  to  linger,  but  which  alas !  was  so 
soon  to  be  broken.  Years  may  roll  onward,  blotting 
out  with  their  oblivious  tide  many  of  the  star-gleams 
of  the  Past,  yet  as  oft  as  memory  shall  revert  to  our 
travels,  in  early  youth,  over  the  olden  world,  so  oft 
shall  the  recollection  of  her  of  the  warm  heart  and 
the  bright  eyes  come  with  a  rush  of  feeling  over  the 
spirit,  and — 

Softly,  softly,  sofUy  it  falls, 
The  music  in  those  fairy  halls. 

A  visit  to  the  old  Palace  of  Fontainbleau  will  repay 
the  traveler  well.  It  is  situated  about  forty  miles 
from  Paris,  on  the  Lyons'  Railway.  A  ride  of  about 
two  hours,  over  one  of  the  best  roads  in  the  world, 
brings  you  to  your  destination.  The  palace  consists, 
as  usual,  of  a  numberless  suite  of  splendid  apartments, 
ornamented  with  frescoed  walls  and  ceilings,  with 
paintings,  sculpture  and  tapestry,  with  tesselated 
floors,  Sevres  porcelain,  and  glittering  chandeliers, 
with  curtains  of  the  richest  silk  and  embroidered 
drapery  for  the  couch  of  royalty.     The  small  plain 


MEMORIIiS     OVEK    TIIK    WaTEU.  339 

table  was   shown  us  on  which  Napoleon  signed  his 
abdication,  the  chair  in  which  he  sat  and  the  bed  in 
which  he  slept.     Having  finished  up  the  usual  routine 
of   doing  up  a  palace,   we  next    strolled   out  into 
the  Jardin  Anglaise,  along  by  the  margin  of  a  fine 
sheet  of  water,  over  whose  surface  royalty  was  wont 
to  boat   it.     Kext  we  visited   the   Long  Vineyard, 
and   then  procuring  carriages  we  set  out  for  a  ride 
through  the  famous  forest.     Saw  the  Bouquet  du  Roi, 
the  Two  Twins,  and  other  celebrated  trees,  and  among 
them  one  said  to  be  nine  hundred  years  old.     These 
specimens    are    regarded   as   mighty   giants   by   the 
French,  but  to  one  who  has  roamed  the  forests  of  the 
far-west  they  appear  as  pigmies.     Next  we  went  to 
the  "  Rock  of  the  two  Sisters,"  thence  to  Mont  Ussy, 
thence  to  the  village  hotel  where  we  dined,  and  thence 
back  to  Paris  that  night. 

nOMEWAKD    BOUND. 

Winter  had  come  and  gone,  as  we  loitered  in  the 
gay  capital  of  France,  and  now  as  the  young  flowers 
of  Spring  began  'to  put  forth  their  timid  faces,  a 
thought  of  our  distant  home  came  with  such  appeal- 
ing force  upon  our  heart,  that  we  made  instant  pre- 
paration to  leave  the  follies  and  fricinations  of  the 
great  emporium  of  fashion,  and  seek  again  the  quiet 
happiness  of  our  native  shores,  where  we  might  devote 
ourself  to  some  useful  pursuit  and  woo  to  our  em- 
brace the  gentle  goddess  of  content.  The  following 
extracts   from   our  landsman's    log-bonk   will    show 


oiO  Memories  over  the  Water. 

how  we  reached  once  more  the  shores  of  the  Western 
World. 

Ship  Gallia,  Lat,  49°,  400  miles  out  from  Havre. 
Dead  calm,  Wednesday,  March  31st. 

Left  Paris  on  Thursday  morning  last  about  eight 
o'clock.  Passed  by  Rouen  and  reached  Havre  three 
o'clock,  p.  M.  Had  baggage  put  aboard  the  Gallia, 
and  slept  that  night  at  Wheeler's  Hotel.  At  11 
o'clock  next  morning  went  aboard,  and  at  3  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon  got  the  vessel  out  of  her  berth, 
unfurled  sails,  and  glided  out  into  the  ocean. 
A  few  miles  from  shore  dropped  anchor,  counted 
over  steerage  passengers  (about  750),  discharged  pilot, 
and  again  sped  on  our  course.  All  souls  counted 
aboard  the  ship  we  number  808.  Have  now  been 
out  five  days.  Fair  weather  and  no  wind.  Captain 
Richardson  is  a  pleasant,  talkative  fellow,  but  too 
much  of  the  Yankee  to  be  the  model  of  a  sailor. — 
Our  fare  is  most  excellent,  the  ship  clean  and  comfort- 
able. Company  in  the  first  cabin,  Mrs.  Eve,  an 
elderly  French  lady,  and  her  pretty  grand-daughter, 
Miss  Amelina  Poret,  a  resident  of  New  York  on  her 
return  home  from  a  visit  to  her  relatives  in  Nor- 
mandy; Brady,  his  wife,  the  German  Doctor  and 
ourself  making  up  the  complement.  Day  before  yes- 
terday spoke  the  Witch  of  the  Wave,  83  days  out 
from  China.  Her  captain  an  old  schoolmate  of  our 
captain. 

Ship  Gallia,  Lat.  47°,  Lon.  25°,  Tuesday,  April 
Gth,  '52. 


Memouiks   over  the  Watek.  341 

Again  another  week  has  gone  by,  and  still  we  speed 
o'er  the  blue  waves,  the  bright  heaven  above  us,  the 
dancing  billows  around.  Time  hangs  not  heavily  on 
our  hands,  for  all  vestige  of  that  malady,  to  which 
the  salt-water  novitiate  is  inevitably  heir,  having 
disappeared,  we  begin  our  ocean  domestication,  and 
enjoy  the  novelties  of  our  water-bound  confinement. 
We  love  to  mount  the  tapering  mast,  and  thence 
look  down  on  the  broad  plains  of  ocean,- while  our 
gallant  vessel  rears  and  plunges  onward  through  the 
bounding  billows.  More  frequently  however  we 
climb  the  riiTi^ino-  as  a  rcfus-e  from  the  attacks  of 
Madam  B.  and  the  bewitching  Amelina.  The  latter 
is  an  arch  little  mischief-maker  of  some  seventeen 
summers.  Her  naivete  is  really  charming.  The 
emigrant  passengers,  down  on  the  second  deck,  kept 
up  a  constant  series  of  amusements,  with  their  songs 
and  their  merry  antics.  They  are  not  suffered  to 
walk  our  deck  or  enter  our  cabin.  Who  says  that 
money  does  not  establish  rank! 
*  Night  before  last  an  infant  of  one  of  the  emigrants 
died,  and  last  night  at  8  o'clock  the  body  of  the 
little  innocent  was  committed  to  the  deep,  while  the 
ship  was  careering  before  a  strong  wind,  and  the 
rollinc:  waves  dashed  hi^-h  above  her  decks.  The 
ocean  spray  was  its  winding-sheet  and  the  surging 
winds  a  requiem  song.  Young  pilgrim,  thou  hast 
reached  a  better  asylum  than  earth  can  give  thee, 
though  Ions:  shall  the  lone  mother  sorrow  for  her 
precious  treasure  in  the  ocean  buried. 


842  Memories  over  the  "W^ater. 

So  far  nor  iceberg,  nor  dolphin,  nor  porpoise,  nor 
aught  else  of  ocean's  monsters  has  crossed  our  path- 
way through  the  deep,  save  only  one  small  whale, 
that  came  almost  within  arm's  reach  of  the  ship. 
For  the  last  few  days  we  have  had  favorable  winds, 
and  hence  have  made  considerable  progress  westward. 
We  have  had  too  some  stormy  weather,  giving  us 
a  sight  of  Ocean  in  its  wrath.  We  love,  while  the 
waves  roll  high,  and  the  strong  wind  bellows  through 
the  cordage,  to  take  our  stand  on  deck,  and  clinging 
to  a  rope,  watch  the  triumphant  vessel  rear  and 
plunge,  as  if  wrestling  with  a  foe,  her  prow  now  rising 
upright  over  the  mad  billows,  and  now  dipping  deep 
down  into  the  trough  of  the  sea. 

At  night,  as  we  lay  us  down  to  be  "  rocked  to  sleep 
on  the  rolling  deep,"  the  thought  of  home  and  friends 
calls  up  the  angel  of  many  a  holy  purpose,  ay,  and  the 
ghost  of  many  a  murdered  hour.  We  long  to  spring 
once  more  upon  our  native  land,  never  again  to  leave 
it — to  lead  a  better  and  a  purer  life.  And  then  there 
will  visit  us  too,  in  our  waking  dreams,  the  sweet  face 
of  Albion's  daughter,  who  perhaps  at  that  moment 
was  breathing  a  holy  prayer  to  Heaven  for  our  own 
safety,  for  so  she  said  she  would,  as  oft  as  night 
should  gather  earth  beneath  her  wings,  and  as  oft  as 
the  morning  sun  should  fright  the  sable  queen  away 
again.     Heaven  guard  and  bless  thee,  gentle  one ! 

Ship  Gallia,  Lat.  41  deg.  30  m.,  Lon.  61  deg.  30  ra. 
April  18, 1852. 

Hours,   days  and    weeks   wear  on.     Wo   like   tl)e 


Memories   oyer  tue  "Water.  3-i3 

ocean  life.  The  sca-brceze  is  a  perfect  renovator. 
We  feel  as  though  we  were  made  of  india  rubber.  "We 
prefer  the  sailing  vessel  to  the  steam-ship.  There  is 
poetry  in  being  wafted  by  the  wind  over  the  moonlit 
waves.  This  afternoon  a  jolly  old  gentleman  from  the 
steerage  cabin,  his  fair  round  belly  with  "fat  capon 
lined,"  dressed  himself  out  as  a  coquettish  old  dame, 
and  making  his  appearance  on  the  main  deck  com- 
menced a  spirited  waltz  to  the  music  of  the  violin. 
Seizing  on  a  stalwart  bystander  he  would  lift  him  up 
and  spin  him  round  as  lightly  as  puss  would  toy  with 
the  captive  mouse.  Finally,  grabbing  the  "beau  of 
the  steerage,"  the  promising  couple  went  whirling 
round  cutting  all  manner  of  light-heeled  gyrations, 
until  suddenly  the  ship  either  lurching,  or  else  the 
ponderous  petticoats  interfering  with  the  free  play 
of  the  fair  lady's  abdominal  supporters,  the  merry 
couple  were  simultaneously  capsized,  and  the  corpu- 
lent old  dame  rolled  over  on  her  beam-ends,  drawing 
the  steerage  beau  headlong  in  her  wake. 


CHAPTER    L 


CONCLUSION 


On  ship-board  one  may  find  ample  excuse  for  a 
tumble.  While  our  vessel  was  wallowing  heavily  on 
the  banks  of  Newfoundland,  and  tables,  chairs,  and 
books  were  playing  leap-frog  in  the  cabin,  we  were 
one  day  clinging  desperately  to  one  end  of  a  sofa, 
while  the  pretty  Miss  P.  was  holding  as  for  dear  life 
to  the  other.  Suddenly  our  vessel  gave  a  heavy  lurch 
to  the  larboard,  and  thump  !  came  our  fair  acquaint- 
ance against  our  side.  Letting  go  our  hold  on  the 
sofa,  we  were  endeavoring  to  sustain  the  merry 
maiden,  when  lurch  went  the  ship  again  over  to  the 
starboard,  and  away  shot  Miss  P.  and  ourself,  all 
locked  up  in  a  bundle,  over  and  over  on  the  floor. 
No  lover  ever  strained  his  heart-treasure  closer  than 
did  we  each  other,  as  we  rolled  like  one  solid  ball 
from  side  to  side  of  the  cabin,  she  unable  and  we 
unwilling  to  regain  a  footing.  True  to  the  instinct 
of  our  nature  we  held  on,  and  our  frightened  and 
discomfited  fair  friend  found  herself  an  object  of 
uproarious  laughter  from   passengers,   captain,  and 

steward.     In  the  hurrv  of  tlic  moment  we  could  not 
(  :J44  ) 


Memories  over  the  Water.  345 

get  a  fair  view  of  our  relative  positions ;  but  our 
photograph  at  that  moment  would  doubtless  exhibit 
an  amusing  scene. 

On  the  succeeding  evening  we  had  escaped  the 
heavy  swell,  and  were  moving  along  through  com- 
paratively calm  water.  Brady  was  out  on  the 
quarter-deck,  dancing  with  the  fair  heroine  of  the  yes- 
terday, while  we  were  figuring  out  the  Schottish  with 
his  wife.  A  rivalry  sprung  up  between  the  two 
couples,  as  to  which  could  bump  the  hardest  the  one 
against  the  other.  Several  collisions  had  taken  place, 
but  neither  was  recognized  the  conqueror.  But 
finally,  having  more  tonnage  and  equally  as  much 
*  speed  to  make  up  our  momentum,  we  struck  our  lar- 
board-side square  against  the  aft- quarters  of  our 
adversary,  and  away  tumbled  the  enemy  over  the 
deck  —  the  fair  one  falling  keel  bottom-most,  and 
Brady  performing  a  complete  somerset  over  her 
rigging  in  most  gallant  style. 

During  our  homeward  trip  several  corrections  were 
administered  to  a  refractory  crew  for  drunkenness  and 
insubordination.  One  of  the  sailors,  during  a  tight 
blow,  when  hurried  by  the  mate,  drew  a  knife  on  his 
ofiicer.  For  this  ofiense  Jack  was  marched  aft,  and 
a  pair  of  iron  bracelets  soon  graced  his  hands.  For 
the  next  twenty-four  hours  he  was  placed  in  a  cold 
room  to  himself,  and  there  suftered  to  lie  without  food 
or  water.  On  being  released  he  was  as  tractable  as 
a  lamb. 

On  the  morning  of  the  20th  of  April,  while  dressing 
29 


346  Memories   o\Ti:R  the  Water. 

in  our  stateroom,  Brady  came  clashing  down  into 
the  cabin  shouting  —  "Land,  ho!"  Let  those  who 
have  been,  for  many  weary  weeks,  out  upon  the 
watery  waste,  imagine  the  excitement  this  announce- 
ment created.  Hastily  accomplishing  our  toilet,  we 
ascended  to  the  quarter-deck,  and  there,  in  truth,  out 
upon  our  starboard,  lay  the  dim  shores  of  Long 
Island.  It  was  with  mingled  feelings  of  gratitude 
and  exulting  joy  that  our  eye  ran  caressingly  along 
the  hills  of  our  native  coast,  A  fair  breeze  filled  our 
sails,  and  we  were  dashing  right  gallantly  over  the 
crested  waves,  each  moment  drawing  the  shore 
nearer  to  our  eager  embrace.  Soon  a  pilot-boat  was 
observed,  with  her  signal  up,  and  making  for  our' 
vessel.  But  the  wind  was  all  in  our  favor,  and  so, 
without  shortening  sail,  we  bore  right  onward,  as 
though  the  pilot  had  not  been  seen  from  our  deck. 
Anon  the  weather  grew  misty,  and  then  we  held  up 
for  the  boat.  In  a  short  time  the  trim  little  vessel 
came  dancing  around  our  ship,  and  her  row-boat  put 
out  with  her  pilot  aboard.  In  a  few  moments  the 
ocean  veteran,  who  looked  as  though  he  had  stared 
many  a  nor'wester  out  of  countenance,  mounted  to  our 
deck.  Again  we  were  on  our  way,  and  erelong  our 
anchor  plunged  with  joyful  sound  into  the  Empire 
Harbor.  Here  we  lay  until  the  following  morning, 
when  a  small  steamer  came  alongside,  and  attaching 
itself  to  our  bow,  puffed  and  paddled  away,  seeming, 
in  its  fussy  w^ay,  to  rejoice  at  the  good  turn  it  was 
doing  us.     Passing  scotfrce  through  the  Quarantine 


Memories   over  the  Water.  34:7 

and  Custom-IIouse  investigation,  v?c  moved  on  to  the 
shore,  and  were  met  by  a  whole  fleet  of  skiffs,  full  of 
hotel  runners,  etc. —  those  land -sharks  whose  occupa- 
tion is  to  inveigle  and  plunder  the  unposted  emigrant. 
In  a  few  moments  after,  wo  stood  once  more  upon 
our  native  soil,  whose  happy  shores  were  even  then 
smiling  under  the  first  kiss  of  the  Virgin  Spring. 
With  a  song  on  her  lips  and  a  wreath  on  her  brow, 
she  came  sporting  along  the  ocean  coast  from  her 
home  in  the  South,  and  under  her  light  footsteps 
nature  smiled,  and  young  flowers  awoke  to  life.  Not 
less  joyously  did  our  foot  greet  again  the  soil  of  our 
birthland.  Our  wanderings  were  now  fast  drawing 
to  a  close.  So  far  we  had  been  going  with  the 
stream ;  now  we  were  to  turn  the  prow  of  our  little 
bark  about,  and  lay  hold  on  the  oars.  We  had  been 
only  a  looker-on  at  the  battle  of  Hie ;  now  we  must 
put  on  our  armor  and  mingle  in  the  fray. 

We  spent  several  days  in  New  York,  and  there  met 
many  friends  of   old    acquaintance  —  among    them 

Nannie  A ,  of  the  good  city  Nashville,  whose 

familiar  face  awoke  many  a  cheery  memory  of  the 
past. 

On  the  morning  of  the  2Sth  of  April  we  were 
aboard  the  cars,  booked  for  the  city  of  Washington. 
Soon  reached  the  Delaware  river,  a  few  miles  above 
Philadelphia,  and  there  took  steamer  to  the  Quaker 
city.  Thence  proceeded  down  the  lair  waters  of  the 
Delaware,  whose  placid  tide  was  thickly  studded  with 


34:8  Memories   over  the  Water, 

the  white  sails  of  every  class  of  vessels,  and  instinct 
with  the  rushing  steamers.  At  New  Castle  we  again 
took  the  train,  and  crossed,  in  an  hour  and  a  half,  the 
little  State  of  Delaware.  Reaching  the  waters  of  the 
Chesapeake  we  went  aboard  the  steamer,  and  arrived 
at  Baltimore  at  ten  o'clock  that  night.  At  eleven 
o'clock  on  the  following  morning  we  were  in  Wash- 
ington City.  Here  we  passed  several  days,  and  most 
pleasantly,  under  the  auspices  of  the  fair  daughters 
of  Major  D. 

On  the  morning  of  the  2d  of  May  we  took  the 
steamer  down  the  broad-iiowing  Potomac,  passing  in 
fair  view  of  Mount  Yernon,  and  even  catching  a 
glimpse  of  the  Tomb  of  Washington,  peering  through 
the  green  foliage  about  it.  At  noon  we  landed  from 
the  steamer,  and  took  the  cars.  Passed  through 
Richmond  and  Petersburg,  Ya.,  and  reached  Weldon, 
N.  C,  that  night. 

Here  we  got  out,  and  in  the  old  village  of  Mur- 
freesboro',  and  on  the  banks  of  the  Meherrin  and  the 
Chowan,  we  learned  the  hospitality  of  the  old  North 
State,  Many  were  our  evening  rides  on  horseback, 
and  many  a  cozy  hour,  with  our  lady  friends  and 
favorite  poets,  went  magically  by.  But  among  those 
bright-eyed  ones  there  was  a  being  of  youth  and 
beauty,  from  out  whose  large  blue  orbs  broke  a  wild 
and  spiritual  light.  Into  the  fair  paradise  of  that 
young  heart  no  thought  of  evil  passed — over  the  glad 
canopy  of  her  life  no  storm-cloud  sent  its   frown. 


Memories  over  the  Water.  349 

From  out  the  sweet,  unbroken  dream  of  youth  she 
had  ne'er  awakened.     She 

Dreatu'd  tliat  earth  was  bright  with  beauty, 
Drcaiu'd  that  hearts  grew  never  cold, 

Dream'd  that  all  were  true  and  worthy, 
And  dreaming  sought  the  spirit-fold. 

Upon  her  pure  and  gentle  dreaming,  and  all  un- 
known to  the  loved  and  loving  ones  about  her,  the 
shadow  of  death  was  stealing.  We  have  stood  by 
her  side,  at  evening's  blushing  sunset,  and  by  the 
grave  of  those  who  had  gone  before  her  to  the  spirit- 
land  ;  and  we  heard,  as  though  it  were  the  voice  of  an 
angel,  her  thoughts  of  the  life  that  was,  aud  of  tho 
life  that  is.  At  that  lone  spot,  where  weeps  the  wil- 
low, she  slumbers  now.  She  bloomed  awhile,  like 
some  fairy  lily  by  the  shore  of  death's  dark  stream. 
The  envious  current  saw  and  bore  away  the  jflower. 
But  the  Kind  Mariner  looked  upon  the  lily,  tossed 
upon  the  turbid  tide,  and  taking  it  up  transplanted  it 
to  smile  for  ever  in  his  garden  home. 

How  like  the  dew  of  Ilcaven  on  drooping  flowers  — 
how  like  the  sunlight  on  the  pathway  of  the  night- 
traveler —  is  the  smile  of  the  innocent  on  the  heart  of 
the  strong.  It,  for  a  time,  dispels  the  sad  contempla- 
tion of  the  selfishness  of  earth,  and  lends  a  brighter 
hue  to  life.  The  tear  that  swims  in  the  eye  of  the 
loved  when  the  farewell  is  spoken — the  voice  that 
trembles  in  the  fond  adieu — the  light  that  breaks  out 
from  the  heart  at  the  return — are  all  heart  treasures 


350  Memories   over  the  Water. 

that  memory  stores  away.  They  are  like  sweet  stars 
that  shine  through  the  mist  of  the  past — like  bright 
angels  that  stand  upon  the  shores  of  the  future,  and 
beckon  us  on  to  the  heavenly  hills. 

But  our  farewell  is  said,  and  our  flag  is  up  for  Ten- 
nessee.    Jumping  into  the  baggage-wagon  with  our 

friend  Tom  W ,  we  rattled  away  to  Boykin's 

Depot,  there  to  await  the  express  train.  The  waving 
of  the  red  flag,  as  it  comes  thundering  on,  causes  the 
breakers  to  he  put  hard  down.  Bidding  friend  Tom 
adieu,  we  jumped  aboard,  and  soon  after  were  on 
the  Southern  road  down  to  Wilmington.  There  got 
aboard  an  ocean  steamer  and  ran  down  to  Charleston. 
Immediately  after  took  the  cars  for  Chattanooga,  and 
reached  the  borders  of  our  native  State  about  five 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  Got  into  the  stage-coach 
and  crossed  the  Cumberland  Mountains  by  night,  and 
in  the  midst  of  a  heavy  thunder-storm.  Arrived  at 
the  Winchester  Depot  at  ten  o'clock  on  Friday.  At 
three  o'clock,  p.  m.,  took  the  train,  and  at  nightfall 
we  were  in  Nashville. 

And  here  the  curtain  falls  upon  our  travels.  The 
ruling  desire  of  our  heart  had  been,  from  earliest 
youth,  to  cross  the  big  waters  and  look  on  foreign 
lands.  That  desire  had  been  gratified,  and  we  re- 
turned to  our  home,  having  learned  to  love  and 
appreciate  the  more  our  native  land.  We  had  ling- 
ered in  the  capitals  of  England  and  of  France — in  the 
homes  of  the  Saxon  and  the  Gaul.  We  had  mingled 
with  the  German  of  the  North  and  the  Hungarian  of 


Memories  over  the  Water.  351 

tne  East.  Wc  had  floated  on  the  waters  of  the  Rhine, 
and  looked,  with  almost  holy  reverence,  on  its  ivy- 
mantled  ruins.  We  had  stood  upon  the  woody  Lrows 
of  Jura,  and  crossed  the  villa-studded  Apennines. 
Wc  had  climbed  the  snowy  mantles  of  the  Alps,  and 
boated  o'er  the  deep-embowered  lakes  that  lay  smiling 
at  their  feet.  We  had  stood  within  the  shadows  of 
the  Coliseum,  and  looked  down  into  the  crater  of 
Vesuvius.  We  had  mingled  with  those  who  had 
their  homes  by  the  Danube  and  the  Po,  the  Moldau 
and  the  Iser,  the  Arno  and  the  Tiber.  Then  west- 
ward turned  our  face  again,  with  the  prayer  that  wo 
might  once  more  look  upon  the  fresh,  fair  hills  of  our 
distant  birth-land,  where  our  dust  might  mingle  with 
the  soil  of  the  free ;  and  where,  above  our  simple 
grave  in  the  Far-Western  Land,  the  wild  flowers 
might  bloom  and  the  summer  winds  blow. 


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